#I re-hyper fixated on it but now I feel nothing

[dilutedapplejuice]

Do you ever just lose a hyperfixation that you loved so passionately? It takes you to another world and you dedicate yourself to it and for once it is effortless, energizing even. But then one morning you try it again and it just feels dull and you know it’s leaving like any other interest. The meaning you found in it has gone like a word you repeated one too many times. Just another thing to throw in the used pile. No matter how hard you try to love it again you will never be the same way. It’s so sad.

[hyuckbeam]

hit or miss

you’re given a bet by your own best friend to finally earn you some kissing experience at the ripe age of 18, but what if he’s the one you’ve been wanting to kiss all along?

pairing | bff!haechan x reader

genre | fluff, just a bit of angst

warnings | y/n uses she/her pronouns, both y/n and hyuck are dumdums! kind of slow burn, curse words are explicitly mentioned, cousin!winter, i think that’s all but lmk if i missed anything!

wc | 4.3k words

note | this is pretty inspired by the webtoon “the kiss bet” because i currently have a hyper fixation on it and i absolutely love all the characters ;0; this is also way longer than intended but anyways,, i hope u enjoy! all rbs and likes are appreciated, thank you <3

D-15.

“in three, two, one, happy birthday, y/n!” your best friend, haechan announces aloud for everyone in your apartment complex to hear at 12 in the morning.

“come on! make a wish before the candles blow out!” winter, your cousin, urges you with a big smile on her face.

having just finished your night time routine and prepared yourself for a night's worth of sleep, you were rather shocked to see them with one of those trendy bento cakes and rainbow colored party hats adorning their heads.

despite your confusion, you walk up towards them with a grateful smile resting upon your lips. “seriously, when did you guys plan this?”

“oh, it was all my- ow, hey!” haechan gets cut off midway through his statement because of a nudge from winter’s elbow.

“what he was trying to say was it was all my doing. you’re welcome bubs!” your cousin beams, eyes creasing into crescents. “though i’d wish you’d hurry up. this cake isn’t holding itself up for you, y’know?” she adds on rather playfully but you can tell she truly meant it.

gathering a deep breath, you blow out the candles and cheers erupt from the people you deem closest to you. winter then sets down the cake on your coffee table in relief as your best friend slings his arm over your shoulder.

“sooo y/n, got anything planned for the year? a small resolution or something like that, i don’t know.” he rambles off, suggesting the idea of having a goal to work towards now that you were deemed an adult (though, haechan kept referring to this as the year that marks your jail-ability era).

you feel a little tingly from his touch, even when you know the two of you are just friends and nothing more. what you’re feeling is probably just a phase. it’ll go away.

“i’m not really sure, got any ideas for me?” you ask the two instead, eyeing them both in a back and forth motion.

“we can always work on that dating experience of yours- last i remember, it was up to the high number count of… zero.” your cousin chips in from the side as she slices the cake for the three of you to share, her tone sarcastic while she teases you.

it’s true, you didn’t have a lot (re: any) of experience in the dating sector, but perhaps that could change starting this year. “that… might not be such a bad idea.”

haechan’s interest seems to have been piqued — he’s making that look. that specific expression where the corners of his lips turn upwards, a brow raised, and that glint in his eye. oh, you know it all too well.

“come on.” you urge the boy. “start sharing your idea. i can practically see your mind ready to explode.”

“well, since you’ve asked me ever so kindly. how ‘bout a bet?” he starts, taking a few steps towards you with that cocky expression of his. “i bet you 10 dollars to kiss someone in two months. not that hard, right?”

“what- you want me to kiss some random person for 10 bucks?” you gawk out in surprise.

he only shakes his head, “i never said it needed to be a stranger. just, someone in general.”

you processed the idea thoroughly, running all sorts of possible scenarios in your head. wouldn’t it be much easier to kiss… haechan himself? that just seemed like the most plausible approach for you.

he wasn't a stranger — the furthest from one. you were comfortable with him. the kiss didn’t have to mean anything (though it might mean a tiny bit more to you), and in addition, you’d be making some cash.

everything seemed to check out. the only problem was that you had to ask him to kiss you. still, surely this was better than any other alternative, right?

“i’ll do it but… can’t i just kiss you and get it over with?” you finally voice out your thoughts, pretending to make your question sound playful in case the request backfires on you.

“you’re my best friend, that’s a little odd, don’t you think so?” haechan replies in the same tone, lightly ruffling your hair before going over to retrieve a slice of cake from winter.

ouch. way to have your first bit of “dating experience” be your best friend… friend zoning you. what a lovely start to your 18th birthday.

D-13.

a few days had passed since the bet you made with haechan had been established, but not one ounce of progress had been made.

to be fair, how were you supposed to kiss someone else when all you’ve ever wanted was for that kiss to be with your best friend? that’s tough luck.

you attending classes today doesn’t really help with your thoughts either, especially when both haechan and winter had been asking about said progress one after the other.

you’d be lying if they weren’t starting to give you a headache.

as if on cue, winter approaches you, some lecture books in hand and her bag slung on her shoulder. “y/n! how’s your progress?” here we go again.

“just as i told you yesterday, nothing yet.” you reply with a small sigh.

winter senses the frustration behind your words, encouraging her to suggest ideas to help you. “how about finding someone you like? it might make it easier for you know… to kiss them.”

“i don’t think that’s still a good- actually, you might just be onto something, minjeong.” your gears start to churn in your mind. in order to wash haechan off your mind, you might as well find someone else and maybe get an actual relationship out of it.

the idea was just perfect for you.

“have i ever told you how much i love you? i gotta go but i’ll see you after class, winter!” you excitedly bid her a goodbye, rushing to your classroom so you could better plan out your new gameplan.

though the most ideal situation was long gone, you now had a back up plan and you weren’t going to back down so easily from the bet.

you were now busily scribbling on your notepad, forgetting that a new student was to transfer into your class today. the teacher calls upon your attention and as you look up, your eyes land on a boy with great resemblance to a cute bunny.

apparently he’s the new transfer student.

the teacher gives him a moment to introduce himself. “hello everyone, my name is na jaemin. i hope we all get along!” so that’s his name, you thought to yourself.

surprisingly, he was told to take the seat in front of yours, offering you a small smile and a curt wave, one that you gladly return, before he takes his seat.

actually, maybe you really could forget haechan for just a teensy bit.

D-6.

a week goes by without haechan seeing you once. an entire week. was he always this eager to see you? to bask in the warm sight that is you? he thinks he must be going crazy.

the only time he ever gets updates about you is through winter which aren’t much to go on. he does remember a key detail she mentioned previously about how you’ve been spending time with that new student, jaemin.

what was so special about him anyways? well, he was surely going to find out soon.

as the bell rings to signal the start of recess, he dashes out of his classroom, taking big steps towards yours.

there, haechan finds you in his seat and he’s about to approach you until he sees you’re in the middle of a conversation with the one and only, na jaemin.

“this is how you do this, right?” jaemin asks you, directing your sight to a piece of paper that has a bunch of math formulas written on it.

“yeah! i’m surprised you got that rather quickly.” you compliment the boy in front of you with a small laugh.

your thoughts on jaemin have changed drastically since the first time you met him. he’s a sweet boy, someone you could never take advantage of. it just felt wrong to you so you just dropped your entire plan as a whole.

it was alright to lose the bet. at least you kind of made a new friend out of it, right? you smile to yourself at that thought.

to haechan, however, your smile is so bright in jaemin’s presence, it’s practically blinding everyone in sight. have you ever smiled at him like that? wait- why does that matter?

he doesn’t like you, no way.

you’re best friends, yeah. his love for you is as platonic as can be — at least that’s what he tells himself.

for someone as bold as haechan, he can’t seem to find the confidence in him to walk towards your table and steal your attention. instead, he steps out of the classroom, unnoticed by you.

D-5.

“JAEMIN DID WHAT!?” haechan yells into his phone, winter being on the receiving end of the call.

the girl tuts, “scream one more time and i’m hanging up on you. and yes, i heard he confessed to y/n. i don’t think she gave him an answer though.”

“sorry, look, i was just really surprised.” a deep sigh comes out from haechan before the call goes silent. he takes the time to process the situation, but the idea of you and jaemin being together just rubs him off the wrong way.

“doesn’t she see how bad he is for her?” he finally reasons out.

“uhuh, in what sense exactly?” winter retorts.

“he’s probably just using her to gain attention or something! can’t i look out for my own best friend?” the response is laughable, even to haechan, but he goes along with it.

winter laughs into the call, “are you even hearing yourself? that’s pretty baseless, even for you haechan.” she replies shortly afterwards. “seems to me like you’re jealous.”

“are you hearing yourself, winter? no i’m not! get your head screwed on properly!” haechan answers back in the same incredulous manner as she did to him just a few seconds ago. “who would i even be jealous of?”

“jaemin. who else? i think it’s pretty clear to most. you aren’t that great at managing your feelings, y’know-” the girl’s voice cuts off for a second, “-oh, i’m being called to dinner now but seriously, get yourself together haechan. i know you like my cousin. bye!”

the line goes beep and haechan tosses his phone onto his bed. she really did just leave him hanging like that. how could she after bringing that idea up?!

jealous? not a chance. haechan never gets jealous.

D-4.

haechan wakes up the next day feeling tired, having not slept a wink after winter’s words kept replaying in his head.

i know you like my cousin.

you like my cousin.

you like her.

and these same words follow him as he makes it all the way to school. perhaps seeing you in school would help him understand his feelings better.

he really just wants this to be over with.

with trudged steps, he makes his way to your classroom and luckily enough for him, there you were already in class before the first bell rang.

he blames it on the lack of sleep but you look so ethereal sitting down in your chair as you bop your head lightly to the music that’s presumably playing on your earphones.

the sight is something to behold- that is until he pivots his head ever so slightly and sees jaemin accompanying you. god, why does he have to be there.

so maybe haechan does get jealous. sometimes.

maybe that’s why he acts without thinking, swiftly dragging you from your chair and out to the school courtyard despite your protests.

“hyuck let me go-” you grumble, tugging on your arm but he doesn’t budge one bit. it’s only when you reach a bench in the furthest part of the courtyard he decides to get go of your wrist.

“seriously, what is wrong with you?” you scoff out in disbelief. “this is the first time we’ve spoken in days. i think you could’ve just asked me if you really wanted to talk.” with the addition of those words, haechan finally realizes what he’s done. he knows it was wrong but he isn’t going to back down from the argument that was brewing between you two.

“me? how about you? you’ve been so lovey dovey with mr. perfect all this time! don’t you have yourself to blame on why we haven’t seen each other in so long?” he spat out coldly.

your heart sinks, and yet, you can’t help but feel even more enraged. its true, you’re part of the reason for the lack of communication between you two. after all, communication is a two way system. but doesn’t that also mean he’s also to blame?

“i enjoy jaemin’s company a lot! is that so wrong?” you shoot back, biting your bottom lip before mumbling the latter part of your statement. “at least he isn’t as grumpy as the person standing in front of me.”

ouch.

the boy hears this and gets ticked off even more. maybe it really is the lack of sleep but he seriously can’t understand her reasoning anymore. instead, he assumes she’s just doing all of this for the bet.

“do you really want to win the bet so bad? if that’s what you want, just kiss me and be over with it. i’m literally letting you win. you can stop seeing jaemin now.”

and that’s when it hits you a little.

why is he bringing the bet up all of a sudden when you just want a genuine relationship with jaem- oh. he couldn’t possibly see you as someone like that right? he said it himself! he doesn’t like you and even denied your request to kiss him a few weeks ago.

but, if that were all true, what other explanation would there be to his actions?

he takes your silence as a no, prompting him to leave you in the courtyard all alone.

you couldn’t seem to understand him at all no matter how hard you tried.

as soon as you got home from classes that same day, you rushed yourself back home and into the comfort of your bed and pillows — treating them as if they were your closest confidants and cried while you shared your troubles.

it wasn’t productive on your end but it was much needed for you to at least think straight. you’d been bottling your contemplations all day long after all.

here you are laying lifeless on your bed, using all your braincells to dicern what the fuck happened earlier this morning.

you know haechan doesn’t like you. you’ve said it to yourself so many times now.

maybe he’s just jealous you’ve been spending more time with jaemin because, although you have different intentions before, you realized you couldn’t see him in that way nor had the heart to just use him for your own gain.

haechan was a different story though. you feel flushed just thinking about him, knowing full well the both of you are in the middle of an argument between each other.

remembrance of the frustration hits, making you groan at the thought of having to remedy it. if you and haechan had anything in common, it would be the stubbornness you both share.

the last time you both got into an argument this big was back in junior high. neither of you spoke to the other for an entire month. it got so bad that both your parents had to call each other up to devise a way to get an apology out from the both of you.

though it would make the entire situation much easier, your parents no longer delve into these types of problems — and neither do haechan’s. you’re both all alone to fix this one yourselves and you wish you’d been more grateful to your parents for mending your relationship with haechan.

deep down, you already know the both of you will struggle to find the right timing, but you certainly hope that day would come soon. you didn’t exactly like being away from him either (even if he made you feel like shit for the rest of the day).

you decide to sleep off your worries for the night, hoping and praying that tomorrow would be a better day for you.

D-3.

tomorrow is not any better of a day.

jaemin and haechan both invited you to eat with them for lunch which quickly escalated into a light argument between the two. you couldn’t even bring yourself to butt into their conversation, seeing how they were fighting over something so silly.

“i’m her best friend, we do this pretty much everyday!” you hear haechan yell at jaemin, his frustration for the other getting the best of him. “plus, i need to talk with her. without you.”

“if the two of you are just best friends, then what gives you the right to dictate her answers?” jaemin fires back, keeping a calm and collected appearance throughout.

this shuts haechan up and the entire cafeteria goes dead silent. oh boy, did you want to curl up into a little hole. everyone was staring and you didn’t like that one bit.

nevertheless, you decided to be the bigger person — uttering a small apology to jaemin before walking off to the table you usually sat at with haechan — the latter following you a few steps behind.

neither of you speak as you begin to eat your separate meals, another sign the relationship between you two was starting to fade out into dust.

winter joins your lunch table shortly after witnessing the drama unfold, she looks at haechan with an unreadable expression and the boy stays quiet during the whole meal.

didn't he say he wanted to talk? an apology for the day before would have been nice.

you get fed up by the silence, placing your food back on the tray before picking it up. you mutter a quiet “i can’t seem to understand you at all.” directed at hyuck before leaving and switching over to the table where jaemin and his friends are sitting.

it all happened too fast and haechan didn’t realize you were leaving until you already did. he really did want to talk but how was he supposed to do that after having that situation with jaemin?

he wanted to calm down first but you had other plans. you really left him in shambles this time.

winter can’t help but sigh at the ongoing conflict. she silently wishes she wasn’t involved this much if it was going to turn out like this.

D-2.

haechan knows he truly has to make it up to you (including a long overdue explanation of why he’s been acting weirdly the past few days) but doesn’t know how to do that. apologies never came easy to him. his mind couldn’t help but go blank everytime he tried thinking of a way to approach you without making things more complicated than they already are.

the sheer amount of times he’s hit a brick wall has him calling the only person who probably knows more about you than he, himself, does.

he picks up his phone, searching through his contacts before landing on a single person, now waiting for the phone to ring.

“hello?” winter’s voice reaches him through the call. “i knew you’d call after what happened at the cafeteria.”

it takes a moment for haechan to answer, “maybe if jaemin wasn’t so aggressive–”

“you both were. now spill, have you gotten your feelings sorted yet?” the girl pushes his dramatics aside, getting straight to the point.

“i… think i do. you were right all along.” haechan finishes. although it was hard for him to admit at first, now that he’s actually said it out loud, it might be the first time he’s been feeling a sense of clarity after so long.

winter hums at his confession. “at least you’re finally taking a step in the right direction. now, to win her back…” she smiles to herself, already having a plan in mind.

you, on the other hand, have been seeing haechan and winter together often for the past week. naturally, your mind begins to wonder if your own cousin is the reason why haechan rejected you way back during your small birthday celebration.

the evidence matches up pretty well — he probably couldn’t reject you directly because she was in the room with the two of you that day. he isn’t spending as much time with you anymore because he’s spending time with her.

they look good together.

those words linger in your head more than you’d like to admit.

you feel cast aside by the people you’ve known practically your entire life but you don’t have much of a choice but to return to jaemin’s company. after all, you chose to eat the rest of your lunch at his table instead of the one that brought familiarity to you.

D-DAY.

day after day, the two of you just seemed to grow even more distant and you wondered if the end of your long-term friendship was nigh approaching. you barely saw him roaming through the halls of campus anymore, much less your cousin.

you didn’t dislike the new friend group you had (jaemin introducing you to his friends after you finally told him about your situation with haechan, but you couldn’t help but feel… dissatisfied with your current situation.)

as your class ends, you prepare yourself for another silent walk home. despite having those new friends, you felt lonelier than you ever had. you missed them. you missed him. and yet, life seemed to have other plans for you.

even trudging down these halls filled with other students made you lonely.

truthfully, you would do anything to have them back- a pain to your forehead snaps you out of your thoughts. you had bumped into someone. well, not just someone, but the person you’ve been longing for the most.

haechan. he was right in front of you after who knows how long it’s been.

you felt like crying on the spot but held in your emotions to appear like your life was anything but lost. haechan knew that look on your face, presuming you haven’t been well ever since the two of you have spoken. he takes your hands that have slumped to your sides into his, and the small gesture reminded you of the warmth he’d bring into your life.

“are you up for a short conversation perhaps?” you only nod and he takes that as a signal in the right direction, though, he isn’t used to you acting around him like this. oh boy, this was going to be more than a short conversation.

haechan leads you into the gymnasium and the two of you sit down by the bleachers with no sight of other students in the area.

“before you get mad- i wanted to apologize first. i shouldn’t have acted the way i did. i was childish.” he begins, holding eye contact with you to show his sincerity. “frankly, i was jealous. jealous you spent more time with jaemin, and you seemed to enjoy you time with him more than the times we hang out together. i shouldn’t have made you feel sad in any way, but i did and that’s completely my fault. i’m sorry.” you know his words hold both his feelings and the truth.

he wasn’t going to lie to you. he never once did during the time you knew each other.

however, what he admitted to had you flustered.

he was jealous of you and jaemin? it was a little hard to believe until you remembered the latter confessed to you the past week. oh god, did word of that spread out? nevermind that, what happened between you and jaemin was the least of your worries, the boy in front of you was. what if haechan got the wrong idea from the rumors?

“it’s not completely your fault. we both were pretty stubborn.” you reply, a soft chuckle leaving your lips to ease the tension between you two. “and if… if you’re curious, i never returned jaemin’s feelings back.

haechan gets pretty taken aback by your statement, now wondering why you brought it up. “oh… i know.”

“you knew? did winter tell you?” you question in anticipation. “i guess the both of you are pretty close now.”

“she did but i swear our friendship is nothing like that!” it was his turn to get flustered. “she could never replace your spot in my life.”

“i’m a little confused though after all of this…” you gesture out, referring to the situation that has just recently moved past you two. “what spot do i even have?”

he pauses, taking his time to think of the right words he wants to tell you but they all get stuck in his throat. the expression on your face showed how you took his silence negatively, prompting him to speak. “i like you. i couldn’t admit it even to myself for the longest time and-” having enough of his rambling, you inch a little closer and give him a kiss on the lips.

it’s brief, and yet, it continues to linger on his lips. “you kissed me.”

“why do you think i never gave jaemin an answer to jaemin’s confession?”

“so you were really saving it for me? i’m honored.” he chuckles out, playfully holding his hand to his chest.

“well, you should be.” you add on with the same bright smile he’s seen you flash at jaemin, except this time, it was absolutely for him.

“i guess that also means you won the bet?” he recalls, a brow raising at you.

you give him a light nudge on his shoulder while suppressing a giggle, “oh, shut up and just kiss me. you owe me 10 bucks by the way.”

tags !!

[m-for-musings]

BG3 meets VTM

So I'm a weirdo and I decided to glue together two of my hyper fixations: Vampire — The Masquerade and Baldur's Gate 3.

I've been playing VTM for 15 years now, and also acting as a Storyteller (GM) to it, but I'm prone to mistakes so if a vampire clan does not fit a character please let me know, let's jump into this weird, totally unhinged, theory together.

P.S.: I know that theoretically any clan can Embrace any individual, this is just a little joke with clan stereotypes and a silly way to imagine who would be Embraced into which clan and why. ALSO low-res clan symbol pics because I'm on my phone.

BG3 characters, but as Vampire Clans

(in alphabetical order)

Astarion: the whole Szarr clan would be a Hecata lineage. Rich, powerful, and full of sassy little bitches that turns into abusive sires that employs weird (and sometimes incestuous) "family" dynamics while also being obcessed with necromancy.

Gale: prodigy wizard doomed with a hunger for knowledge and driven by the promise of unravel the mysteries of the occult, while also being a "yes-ma'am"? Tremere it is.

Halsin: a shape-shifter who sometimes struggles with his bestial side and feels awkward in urban environments, just like a classic Gangrel.

Jaheira: she pretends otherwise, but it is clear that she has a network of spies under her command, and a deep knowledge of her home city's dirtiest little secrets and hideouts. Even her personal life is shrouded by secrecy, secured against (most) prying eyes. She comes and goes in a blink, sometimes disappearing without leaving a trace. A true Nosferatu elder.

Karlach: good old Brujah, with the head as hot as the heart, passionate and strong-willed (and stubbornly resolute) to fight for her goals and ideals.

Lae'zel: nothing screams more "Banu-Haqim" than a fierce and straightforward gith with a strong sense of purpose and justice, a thirst for retribution and loyalty to the elders that she seems worthy.

Minsc: threading a fine line between bold and oblivious, the embodiment of "The Fool" tarot Major Arcana. Completely unpredictable and impulsive, torn between the unhinged and the wise, finding sense where others see pure unbridled chaos, he would become a Malkavian.

Minthara: she has enough poise and status to be a classic high-borne Ventrue, being able to proudly recite her sire's lineage all the way up to the very first of them. Born to rule, with a commanding presence and unwavering will. BUT!!! She is also vicious, ruthless and ambitious enough to get the attention of the clan Lasombra, and their shadow-bending powers also fit the Underdark pretty well, so I'm torn between those two clans for her, although strongly prone to Lasombra.

Shadowheart: either by following Shar's principles or by completely defying the goddess, The Ministry is fit for her, be it for good or for evil, to tempt or to liberate, to expose secrets or hide it, to manipulate or to seek the truth, to be part of a cult or a leader to a sect. She can't fully abandon the spiritual aspect of life, be it for fullfil her desires or to serve her goddess.

Wyll: the Prince of the Gate is the last romantic. He has an innate sensibility, grace, charm, beauty and an unbridled appreciation for arts and love-tale's romance that can be found among the most classy Toreador.

[ladysternchen]

You know, I'm quite glad that we're getting the fanon vs canon concerning Elu Thingol and the Sindar in general into focus a bit. When I first came to Tumblr, it felt to me as though I were just about the only one who cared about him (which of course was never the case, but I at least had no-one to talk to about my elf).

But there's a stale note to it- that it seems there must be more fighting, and hardened fronts, more never-ending discussions that always burn down to one thing- do we accept canon or not.

And really, I don't want to go down that road anymore. I really don't want to spend so much time quoting and explaining and re-reading to make sure I get my argumentation right only to have the other side say stuff like 'yeah, true, but I still get a different vibe so I'm gonna ignore canon and keep hating'

And while I really want to emphasise that there is nothing (!) whatsoever wrong with feeling a story, feeling characters and liking or disliking them (yes, happens to me, too. Canonically, Aredhel has done absolutely nothing wrong, and yet I really dislike her), basing actual character-bashing on these 'vibes' is a problem. Excluding people who defend their favourite characters with CANON from discussions. Making up yet more hateful fanon. Accusing people of certain political beliefs because they like the Sindar (and yeah, I did delete a lot of what I've written here. It just... this makes me so so is angry, but starting to insult people is not what I want for this post, so I deleted, and sat on my fingers until I was able to pick up civil tones again).

But I can't change it. I can't change what other people think, and who knows, maybe I'm no more right than they are. Maybe there is no right. Maybe we could accept that this fandom is vast enough for ALL OF US?

So dear fellow Sindar-stans, let's stop arguing and fill Tumblr instead with the content you want to see. Share your headcanons, write your fanfictions, draw and share your fan art.

Let's discuss it all, dive deep. Comment on the works you like, ask for things to be written. Yeah, I have an obsession with character death, I find grief and mourning an incredibly beautiful thing to write and read about, and as I kill off my favourite characters in general, Elu Thingol's death is my prime motive. (who would have guessed, ey? 🤣) And I'd love to read it from time to time, rather than always write it myself. But that is my very specific hyper fixation and understandably not everyone's cup of tea. But give me all those tender moments of love and friendship and loyalty. Give me the conversations between Elwë, Olwë and Elmo on the journey, give me Daeron's backstory, give me Mablung and Beleg standing unwavering behind their king. Give me drunk Elu and Melian and HER found family. Give me an insight into Nimloth's head. Give me loving reaper-like comics with Elurín and Eluréd and Námo Mandos. And hell, yes, all you talented artists out there, give me some spicy Elu and Melian, please? Give me an insight into all those tender moments. Give me the moment of their reunion, and please please please will anyone draw the moment that Elwë stumbled into Olwë's arms on legs that would not yet carry him (lol, ok, that's too specific. But I have that weird hc that Elves that are released from Mandos need some time to get accustomed to their body again, like a butterfly needs to dry after it emerges from its cocoon).

Ok, now I waffled enough, but will we try that, please? Spread some love instead of discord? That belongs to Bauglir after all.

[miano-oscarwilde]

Self intro -to the mairuma fandom.

First I thought I'd make a comprehensive one but it's the fandom I'm highly active in that needs to know me well. - greetings, mairuma. Hello members old and new.

I'm Miano/Mia. My favourite colour is rainbow 🌈 (I was 17 when I made this post.)

It's nothing else, wanted to clarify what my intentions are, why I'm here and what my purpose is. I make long posts on headcanons or write my mairuma reviews. my subject of utmost admiration in the manga is as you probably know - Gaap/Garp Goemon.

I watched the first season before going into the manga. It was this particular scene that stole my heart. As Jazz puts it, his "pure eyes". From there on I started to hyper-fixate on him.

What I post about him

This is very important. Please read this before following me.

-I post my headcanons about him. I already did a lot and all of them were right. I update everything about him, Starting from the etymology of his name to each and every aspect related to him.

- I love his closest companion Agares Picero too. I post about their bond, how I love it more than any other bond I see in mairuma and so on.

- Fanart about Goemon, Picero

🌟See some of them here in the previous pinned post. Check out my handmade mairuma toys here.

- craft - includes dolls big and small, of Goemon and Picero (in general other characters too) . My main one is as everyone probably knows, this "big giant toy"

Why this big life sized toy?

ID- Gaap Goemon in his first year uniform

The reason why I made him is simple. It Is the greatest tribute that I can give to my favourite character with the type of skills I have-crafting. I love him so much, just as how Opera San is loved, Azz kun is loved etc. When I love something fictional, I re-create - with the set of skills I have.

I'm very attached to my toys (plush toys ) and this one is the most important to me and I didn't even buy much items for making him other than the fur cloth. All other items were recycled materials from my home itself.

So when I post how much I love Goemon, that's mostly about the Goemon in the manga. But I also feel extremely comforted by the Goemon beside me. I post about that too.

I post stylish photos of him in various outfits. I loved dress up games and now I just do it outside the screen on my selected dolls, I'm into fashion designing and I have made plenty of outfits for my Barbie collection.

I also made the doll because I can't draw always so it's a matter of time management as well. I could dress him up in his canon outfits, he has his sword too. I then take different photos.

I post a lot in Goemon tags, so if that's annoying to anyone, you can block me forever because as long as I'm here it's one of the main things I do. M!ik is the main fandom I'm in and Goemon is my favourite character so naturally I'll do whatever I can to express it.

So this is about me and what I post about Goemon. If you want to see the gist of my headcanons about him please refer this particular post. 🐙 (Search the key word 'prophecies' and scroll down if link doesn't work)

There's a lot more than that but I need time to find all of the posts. When you're scrolling in the tags and you see dolls and craft work. I'm the one 😬

Self reflection - I not only say "I love Goemon" all the time in my posts, I do headcanons, use my intellect to analyse his character, make fanart and other creative stuff. The soul of Goemon is contained in the manga and I made a big plush, experiment fashion on it and take care of it to show my affection and respect towards that soul.

I also learned things from him. Like - it's important to eat vegetables: from harvest festival.

The importance of a communal gathering: harvest festival.

I hated fish but I saw him having fish and I started to eat it too and my mom is thankful to him.

I nicknamed Goemon samurai Degozaru

Others : Irubaby- Iruma, Clara boo, mairuma mommy- Opera san. Shaxy- lied, aniki- Jazz, beautiful sensei - Ipos ichou, millipede sensei - Marbas March

I'm an Asian. I was born in South India. I can speak in three languages, English, my mother tongue and Hindi: the one priyanka chopra speaks. I play three instruments - trumpet, keyboard and flute. I play badminton.

I'm a Desi, where Bollywood is. I draw and dress up Goemon in Indian style too. I'm one of the very few Indian 🇮🇳 blogs that makes posts in the mairuma fandom and I know that most fans are from other countries. My posts reflect my culture, not always but sometimes everyone may not understand and they misjudge me. You can clarify any doubts with me.

That's all. If you have any questions you can ask me. Thank you 😊

[offmychest-official]

I may have inattentive adhd? haven’t got diagnosed (don’t plan to either because I hear it makes finding a job difficult) but a friend got diagnosed and her symptoms sound a lot like mine:

(executive dysfunction, difficulty transitioning tasks and focusing, hyper-fixations where I cannot think about much else and forget to do basic things like eat and go to the bathroom, terrible memory, ‘weird’ trains of thought)

(I also have a couple symptoms I didn’t ask her about like my love of lists and decision trees and another one I forgot while trying to spell decision)

I haven’t told anyone about my suspicions but I can’t help but feel like I am faking it. (mainly because I didn’t suspect adhd until tiktok blew it up and I feel like diagnosing myself because I relate to people/memes is silly, everyone feels something like this to an extent right?)

(also if anyone has any advice you think could help regardless of if I have adhd or not (like how to function w/o meds or advice to help me focus on something I’m not hyper-fixating on or anything really please share)

((now that I think about it if I have adhd my dad might have adhd too (if I have it I mean)? when I complained about some symptoms like difficulty focusing, spending forever re-reading a page and not actually reading/getting distracted by literally nothing, and wanting to study but not being able to move my body he told me that it’s normal and he felt like that when he was my age (could be nothing tho I tend to overthink) ))

aaaaa sorry i wrote a lot (I tried to break it into mini-paragraphs to make it easier to read)

.

[inf0dump]

My Creepypasta AU That I Like Too Much ft. A Block of Text

It's been four years. Four goddamn years since I came up with this concept. That concept being re-designing and re-writing the creepypasta stories that I grew up with, i.e., Eyeless Jack, Jeff the Killer, Ticci Toby, etc.

It is just now that I know what to do with it, but I don't know how or where to put it. It's difficult to figure all of this stuff out because I've changed so much of it. I've changed last names, personalities, aesthetics, so a name within the fandom doesn't mean the same thing anymore.

I feel like it doesn't belong on fanfiction websites, but it's not my own thing either. I just really hyper fixated on it for many years, taking bits and pieces of information from the first stories and logging it into my really long fanfiction. To the point where it doesn't feel like fanfiction anymore. Has that ever happened?

I don't want to change the names because I love these re-designed characters with these specific names, and I have a hard time with change. It's in my nature. And I also want to express that I love where it came from (but not who it came from, dear god). I love the place and most of the people that are in this fandom because creepypasta people from the late 2000's, early 2010's, are really cool to me.

And I'm very nervous to share what I've made because of experiences in the past with the things I'm really passionate about, because I will sometimes ask stupid questions. At least I've been told they're stupid questions. But I get really invested in the things I really like, and I want to know everything and interact with other people. I'm so desperate to interact with other people and through the things I enjoy is the only way I know how to.

This may be a lot of infodumping, but that's what I'm good at. And we're just getting started. I feel like I should take this blog in the direction of information spilling and infodumping. I changed my name to that and infodumping is practically my love language. I do it to my girlfriend and my family, and if I were to have a group of friends I would also do it to them if they would let me.

ANYWAY, this is about a completely different thing, you're probably not reading this to hear about my social struggles as an autistic (but I will happily infodump about any questions anyone has because autism is a hyper fixation as well), so let's move onto the creepypasta AU stuff, or the title: The Abyss.

The Abyss is a mix of genres. There's a horror aspect, there's comedy (or at least, what I think is funny), there's drama, there's young adult aspects, mature aspects, some romance, there's probably more. It started as an idea for a comic series, and then I realized, I can only draw people and animals. I can't draw backgrounds or architecture. Honestly, I can barely draw a full-bodied person. I've been drawing for a long time, and it's always been living things, so the comic idea was, WOOSH, out the window.

Then I realized that I have been writing fanfiction for seven years and have been told that I'm talented as a writer. Not much of a reader, but I was in grade school, and then I discovered Wattpad in fifth-sixth grade. I write a whole bunch. I wrote a twenty-something page first chapter for a Five Nights at Freddy's universe that I published on AO3, then a month or so later, deleted it because I believed I could do better.

I'm able to write non-fiction pretty effectively, especially when it's topics I enjoy. I wrote a high school essay in my sophomore year about villain archetypes in books and movies and which one was the most realistic to reality. I don't remember the conclusion. I finished the essay a week before it was to be submitted and so I had nothing to do in my English class except twiddle my thumbs.

For this creepypasta AU project in particular, those four years was spent doing various research on race, ethnicity, culture, disabilities, religion, mental health, demonology, and other subjects that would help to make this world and these characters more believable and representative of the world that we live in. Representation is an important factor to me.

I've had multiple experiences with wanting to see my own type of person in what I love, and I know that other people would want to see that too. Especially in creepypasta. A lot of creepypasta is white anime boys.

I was diagnosed with severe Tourette's Syndrome (TS) last year after suffering for a year a with saying things that I didn't mean, or doing things that I couldn't control, and it affected my mental health severely. I couldn't get out of bed and when you act like that, people laugh at you. Sure, it can be funny, some of the things I say or do, but there's a level of anxiety that unrealistically high. Especially when it comes to that Tourettic OCD side of things. When it tells me "You're going to say this" and I have to fight in order to keep words or movements down.

I confided myself in a re-design of Toby. Toby is the problematic Tourettic representation that I had at that point in time. And I hated that. It wasn't problematic for me in the sense that he would swear, or he would do something taboo in front of people. He was problematic for me in the sense that what he had wasn't Tourette's. It was speech impediment. At least, that's how I remember it, correct me if I'm wrong.

If you are a person, you want to be recognized as a person. There are people that are social anxious to the point that they don't want to be perceived, but you still need to treat them with respect. I've always been taught that people will respect you if you respect them. That's not always true, but it's a positive way to live. To think, 'I'm going to respect this person in whatever form their respect looks like.' That could be respecting their religion, their culture, their gender, their sexuality, their form of expression.

Some people may be wrong in the way that they want respect. They could hurt people; they do not respect another person or a group of people. But they deserve respect because they are a human being. If they aren't going to get respect from you, they will get respect from others, that's how it works. If you don't like a politician, don't respect them in the slightest, they are still going to get respect from other people. That's what I mean. You don't have to respect everyone; it is up to you and up to other people who deserves approval.

You don't have to like anyone. For example, the creator of Ticci Toby, Kastoway, does not have my respect. That is my opinion. They don't deserve my respect and support.

That's part of the reason that I re-designed and re-wrote in the first place. I don't like Kastoway. Toby was the first character that I re-designed. I designed him to be my own representation, and then he took over.

Toby has been renamed to: Tobias (Toby) Goldberg (It feels a little strange publishing that name for other people that's not my girlfriend to see). Toby is my personal favorite. Toby is fifteen (15) when the story starts, he has severe Tourette's Syndrome, severe ADHD, OCD, and is autistic. He's the type of autistic that really likes cats and everything to do with cats. Toby is also high-risk to be a pyromaniac, which is an impulse disorder, and he can't be formally diagnosed yet because he's not eighteen (18) years old.

Toby is incredibly tiny for his age (4'9) because of pregnancy complications, underweight because of medication, and he's Jewish-Italian-American. He lives in the Bronx borough of New York City, has a very thick Bronx accent, a mess of freckles, his Italian grandfather thick, too big to fit his face, tortoiseshell-colored glasses, and very thick, curly, shoulder-length red hair that kind of looks like a wolf-cut, but it sticks out all over the place.

I feel like I shouldn't spoil his backstory, but it's very sad and very triggering. Speaking of triggers, there's a whole lot in here because characters need to suffer, but you shouldn't. Take care of your mental health. Mental health is extremely important.

If anyone has any specific triggers I should now about, let me know. This story is both realistic horror and fantastical horror, which basically means there's the fun horror (fantastical horror) and the devastating horror (realistic horror).

If there's any questions about specific characters, or the question 'what atrocities have you done to my favorite character?' comes up, don't worry, just ask me. And if it's a character that I have never heard of, I will do research on the character and maybe your favorite will make an appearance.

Toby's and Cody's (X-Virus) re-designs are maybe the favorites that I have. But now, we move onto the plot of this whole thing. If you've been waiting for the plot, thank you for sticking around!

The plot of The Abyss is very vague, it's more the description of a place. I was originally going to commit to an episodic structure for the comic, but now, if I'm going to be posting this to AO3, then it absolutely has to have a chapter structure. But if I might be posting the chapters only to here, then I might go back to the episodic structure.

The Abyss is about a group, a main cast, of people, featuring Jeffrey, Tim, Brian, Ben, Cody, Toby, and Sally in Book One (five books in total) living in an alternate plane of existence called the Abyssal Plane, or the Abyss, which is ruled over by a demon that they called the Emperor. The Emperor is tall, faceless, and wears the skin of whatever would fool a person the most effectively.

Their job in the Abyss is to provide retribution to those that the Emperor feels deserves it. Retribution means death. Each person has their own style of carrying out their job when they go on missions. We follow each of these main characters throughout their lives and struggles in and outside of the Abyss, so I guess it's also like slice of life in a sense.

The issue I find that I stated before, is that I feel like I've changed the characters too much in order for it to still be considered fanfiction. I fear that no one will be able to recognize these characters, the only thing I have not changed is first name and some design choices. That's why I have labeled it an AU, an alternate universe.

And another thing, I still have some learning to do, especially when it comes to people of whom I do not share experience with. I've done research, but there's only so much research that you can do that is not talking to people of different cultures, different races, different ethnicities, and I am horrible with talking to people. I fake it till I make it.

If anybody has any details with their life that is outside of my experience, I would love to hear about it. I love learning about people, all kinds of people. Even if it's information that I need repeated to me, repetition is important.

Thanks for reading, I would appreciate constructive criticism, feedback, and interaction. This is my favorite thing to do: talk about what I'm passionate about. Please tell me what you're passionate about!

[burritosandpeppermint]

I'm re-realizing why artists seek altered mental states.

I haven't been too critical of myself but I've been wondering why I still don't have the same drive as when I wrote that short story. The ideas are there, my imagination is still there, I complain about how I don't have the time in the morning but I have the same time as when I wrote the other one.

And then I realized what my state of being was when I wrote that: I was manic.

I wasn't manic that day (I remember it being a good if normal day) but when I read that writing prompt something in me said "Oh...what if I tried? WHAT IF I TRIED AND I LIKED IT???" and that set me off. For six days I was a relatively normal version of myself except that every spare moment I was thinking about or writing the story, only a little perturbed when I had to live my normal life and do my normal things. After it was over I had a little comedown for about a day but then snapped back to normal.

It's such a wonderful high: it's self-generating, you're buoyant pretty much all the time, your hyper-fixation can maybe interfere with your daily life but when you've had it hundreds if not thousands of times in your life (mostly when I was younger, hence the difficulty in even identifying it now that I'm older) you can learn how to channel it, everything is great and there are no problems AT ALL and it's great for hyper-fixation. It's kind of like you're on coke but you're not a complete asshole and it can last for DAYS.

And when it's gone, it's gone, and you can feel super depressed afterwards but if you're in tune with yourself that can be minimized or even avoided altogether.

So, yeah, artists do drugs and drink and do meditation and thrill-seeking activities because "it gets the juices flowing," which is another way of saying they help one to get into that state where your normal, educated, rational part that knows how to do things in the real world works in synergy with the untamed crucible of your boundless imagination and is propelled by a drive that could power a home for a month.

Not all artists or creative types need drugs or wild adventures: some are just born into it and can do just fine without; some, like Stephen King, have worked both ways; some have never known of sober work or creation and are always at risk of absolute ruin, or it catches up with them sooner rather than later.

I'm not going to do drugs. Right now my drugs of choice are caffeine in the morning, a little again in the early afternoon, pot at bedtime, and that's it.* This won't be an excuse for me to get back into drinking or anything, that part of my life is over, and nothing is worth going back to it.

But maybe I can develop meditation routine that gets me back to a creative state again. I think it's possible. I just have to be willing to start and try and fail and then try again another time.

I'm not a chef, and I wasn't raised to cook, but I became a good cook out of persistence, and learning, and adapting, and adopting new techniques. If I apply myself I can do the same with writing.

I'm not giving up on this.

I'm going to do this.

I'm going to write something and submit it and get published before I die. Maybe it'll be 40 years from now but I'm going to do it.

[luthienmpl]

Watching/Rewatching/Planning to Watch List

I was tagged for this weeks and weeks ago by @mellens but I kept not doing it because I was stuck in a MUST!FINISH!STICHING PROJECTS!!!! phase and was watching quite literally nothing at all except Critical Role (no need to read subtitles or even look at the video footage most of the time with that one), so my list would have been very uninteresting for readers and frustrating for me personally. However I have now FINISHED THE PROJECTS (YAAAAY!!!) and am trying to coax my brain out of hyper fixation mode and back into watching some stuff. I'm partially doing this post now to hold myself accountable, lest I end up just aimlessly scrolling through tumblr still not watching anything instead.

Watching:

Between Us: I'm uhhhh *checks Wabi Sabi page* in ep 4. I watched 4 1/4 probably like.... 3 weeks ago? I will start this ep over this week probably. I'm enjoying it so far and like many others, it gives me an urge to rewatch UWMA.

My Tooth Your Love: I had to log back into Viki to check where I was, that's how long it's been. Apparently I have watched eps 1-4. I watched this more casually while I was still keeping up with it but I do wanna know where they're going with bar-owner's trauma induced anxiety issues (literally I can't remember what anybody is called in this, it's been so long) so I'll probs pick it up again at some point.

Big Dragon: Gaga tells me the last ep I watched was ep 5. I did quite enjoy that one while it was going even though it's ridiculous, the problem is that I've been spoiled a lot with this one so there's less of an urgency to pick it up again. On the other hand there's only 3 episodes left so it still shouldn't be much of a problem to finish.

My School President: This is the first show I have picked up to get myself back into watching mode, I started it Friday night and caught up with it yesterday evening. It's very cute, and surprisingly I'm enjoying all of the singing so far.

Dropping: I was watching Remember Me and Eternal Yesterday before the big break but from what I've heard Remember Me has gone off the rails hard and Eternal Yesterday ended about as you'd expect so I think won't bother with either of them.

Re-watching: Bad Buddy. I ran out of Critical Role and I was obsessed with BBS enough while it was first released that I can just let that one run in the background without looking at it a lot and still follow what's happening. Ngl though, the evening that I hit the Rooftop Kiss not a lot of stitching got done.

Planning to Watch:

Those coffee shop shorts that Vibie is putting out: I loved GHGH and am not averse to seeing more of Boy and Tod (also i hear there's a GL ep!)

GAP: I WILL START IT TODAY. I WILL OKAY. LISTEN THE SHOW IS JUST.... !!GAP!! IN MY MIND OKAY IT'S LIKE A BIG DEAL SO THAT TRANSLATES INTO ME BEING RELUCTANT TO START IT FOR SOME REASON? I DON'T UNDERSTAND EITHER BUT I'M STRUGGLING UGH IT'S LIKE

Never Let Me Go: I hated FUTS and dropped it halfway through but it's not like the bad writing was the actors' fault and I hear good things about this one so far, so yes.

609 Bedtime Stories: I'd like to see OhmFluke in something other than UWMA but the Sunshine Night one certainly Wasn't It so I'm hoping this one is at least a little better. It's low priority though, I'll get to it when (if) I'll get to it.

History 5: I was not impressed with H4 At All but, well. It's still History. I hear there's time travel involved somehow? At least that's creative.

I'm vaguely aware there's a couple Korean office ones floating about, I'll probs watch those ones eventually, but the Korean stuff is so short that half the ones I've watched had no emotional impact on me at all, so they're also low priority currently.

Feel free to leave recommendations in the notes, I'm pretty out of the loop and unaware of release dates atm.

As I feel like I'm the Last Fucking Person to do this and I know quite a lot of my long time mutuals have done their lists already, let's take this as an opportunity to get to know some newer follows a little better. So I'm tagging @boosnbugs, @aliceisathome and @chimerasinourskyline. Feel free to ignore if you don't wanna and sorry if you made a list already that I'm unaware of.

[lonelypinecove]

Recently I had rediscovered the term Therian, i had known about the community for quite a long while I’d first learnt about them through recommended videos on YouTube. I was interested in the teen wolf community (not the tv show, it was a news report in a school) and found the community very open about themselves. Although back then there wasn’t a lot of content talking about it, just people saying how stupid it was and how it was just a fantasy. I had been exploring my identity as a young teen but had pushed the idea of being a Therian away because I’d never had flash backs, didn’t know if I’d had a past life, nothing. Just this odd connection I had with wolves that to me, was a lot more than just a hyper fixation but had simply pushed it off as ‘oh I just think their really cool’. The idea of therianism was dropped completely for me.

The last couple of years my mind has been elsewhere, the world around me feels so wrong, like everything isn’t the way it’s supposed to be, not so much in the wrong body, more like my soul is in the wrong place, the world I live in is very foreign I feel.

I’d seen my young cousin for the first time in a very long time and they had told me they were a LynxTherian, just the word Therian brought over this wave of relief, joy and comfort, they’d been teaching me about therianism and I’m amazed to see how much information there is on it now! 9 years later and here I am looking back into the community and learning about everything all over again. My connection with wolves hasn’t changed a bit neither has my connection with dragons I’d had as a young child - I’m currently re-learning about therianism and I’ve never felt so comfortable in my identity.

Thank you all for every bit of information that has been put out there

[tarynkurt]

a few records and a few parties

mondays are always the stangest day to find oneself, and while i still somehow entertain this lifestyle of study, creative practise and very little of my normal 'job' i am greeted with a different wave of emotions every time we have a new week. such an arbitrary distinction, but i guess we need these things.

the thing is i never really allow myself the full rest day - sunday i have the studio booked so i am always focused, even if i can start late because the night before i was up late with whatever nonsense i found myself in, i will continue in that space until it is a few hours into monday already. so now it is already nearly noon in the next week and i don't want to leave bed, i need some recovery time, type away and compose should i need to, but allow me the comfort of my duvet and mattress for a few more hours.

man, that takes me back.

i used to make every beat, every photo edit, every piece of code, write every entry to my journal on my bed. it was just my place of peace and focus; maybe this is how the difficulty with sleep came about. i'm grateful living in this house made me change my lifestyle. kitting out the living room with my entire 'studio' set-up gave so much more freedom to work outside of my sleeping area, so that i can preserve the place in which i must rest with all the sanctity that is required of it.

this place has taught me so much. i'll be heartbroken to go, but as they say the next will be better in its own way. more things to fall in love with and discover.

i'm graduating university next month, and am faced with the final deadlines that will define my time spent in this institution. pressure, yes. blend this with the constant over-bearing search for employment to apply myself outside of this hospitality shit i found myself using to survive over the past few years, the ever-growing need for my creative expression in the dozen or two medias that resonate with me, most notably the musical project i have been fighting to form for years. and, of course, my youth and its waves. i have the urge to party again, to wear sport fits and dance for ten hours, move freely and enjoy myself. as one should, i think.

these things all come in phases.

i'm not sure how to play off the change of branding and expression that i have gone through, and will have to be exhibited in my changing portfolio of sounds.

bones represents the door closing on my entrance to musicianship, hand in hand with the nature of self, dressed in my shirts and my trench, as my main point of rediscovery when i came to this city.

but now i have the other acoustics, with the ambient tracks between and whatever rocky/indie experimentation i can blend in. i find myself dressed in black and white, three stripes or a tick adorned on top of my enormous trousers, chains and rings. i have gone into my next phase of expression, and like the chameleon i am have become re-immersed in the movements of those around me. i want to feel alive.

that's who you met, i'm afraid.

changing constantly with the wind, tied to nothing but my own hyper-fixations and fascinations, changing my tongue and dress and hair and the very way i walk and move myself, every month, bit by bit i morph into the next point of study. i must experience it all, as best i can.

despite the weariness upon my health, i steadily try and take myself to a stronger and more stable position - even in the face of the madness of party i feed myself and rest appropriately. most of the time.

it's all a balance. especially hard when the supplementary career has me doing jobs like the ivors, with 18 hours of set-up and de-rig for this ridiculous sound system. we really do live in something so immensely surreal. alas, we keep striving.

french new wave is inspiring me a lot. maybe i seem more and more pretentious by the day, but i think we just go through progressions and studies of things, and over time if one wants to find more and more complex and specific understandings in art and life, one must go more and more niche and seem more and more 'annoying'. it's just how you portray it i suppose.

our desires can teach us a whole lot. much of my music seems to be figuring these things out, questioning who i am, how i am here and what has drawn me to such movements. i'm just searching for peace.

maybe i ought to go deeper, take some time from always narrowing on my projects and get inspired. didn't i tell you already, this is the most pivotal point of reference. you must get inspired.

maybe i should learn more from our obsession with sex. it is beautiful, really. it requires a great deal of rationality though; something that often is impossibly missing from the equation.

maybe i should practise my skills more. does it still feel aimless and lost? like throwing darts to the board blindfolded, seeing what may stick?

sometimes. but i think we develop it all in good time, and we must just be patient.

these little videos in my phone show a thousand people and more, seemingly all at mastery, blended in their aesthetics perfectly, standing tall on their craft and somehow portraying it to millions. they've been trying for a long time, all power to them. i shall figure out how to show myself in these social bubbles more, but frankly i prefer how my craft comes together, even if it has its deep doubts at times.

i am raw. remember this as the usp that allows me to say what i need to with 0 adulteration or confusion. everything i do is to be a complete and direct expression from within, rough around the edges, filled with cracks and chips, unpolished, but true. my study of the imperfections seem to be what gives it so much depth and gravitas.

one can hope, at least.

each day i hone in closer.

i don't think this project has to be perfect, or anywhere near it. i would love to blend the genres further, add another dozen songs and push it to oblivion, but already i've had to be so strict and cut away what is not absolutely essential. you'll have time to do many more, so let each piece speak for itself.

my little guitar and i must say a few more things before i dissolve into complete electronic madness.

that is when sludge brown will be seen with frank LAsex, and the blur of experimental screams and sonics will come together into something worthwhile.

like i said, my friend, it's just patience.

i think i go crazy thinking of how much i am to do, how fast i must do it, why i'm not working more and more, and why it's not out yet.

naturally.

things are sounding well. and given the point i'm at in everything, i am doing incredibly well. though i am struggling to give myself to those that need me consistently. i really am the leaf in the wind.

one day at a time :)

[lost-in-wond3rland]

Being on tumblr really just feels like being adrift in the middle of the ocean

It really does feel like no one else is on this hell site which is kind of great because I never feel bad about shit posting lol I don't think I've done anything BUT shit post about my current hyper fixations in YEARS lol (case and point, me re-blogging a bunch of red white and royal blue posts the other day because I finished reading the book and would like the movie now please-)

I forgot I used to write on here sometimes, or that I even could. Was it ever anything substantial? Nah. Just musings of a usually v depressed and out of wack teenager.

I am now a slightly less depressed out of wack adult lmao

All this to say, read at your own whim or risk or whatever. It's the internet dude, do what you want.

I'm starting grad school in a little over a month, and I know people talk about how daunting that is all the time. But what I haven't really seen is people talking about going into a program that has n o t h i n g to do with your BA. I'm essentially doing a bit of a 180 with my studies, and where everyone else has loads of experience, and knowledge, and is just so stupid fucking smart, I...

Well, that's just it, isn't it? The trail off. The ... .

Not to say (among other things) that I'm not "smart" per-say. I'm not dumb, I know that. But these people? Mannnnn, you guys should hear and see some of these people. It is nothing short of terrifying.

I've been feeling very Elle Woods in her "coming here was a mistake" era lately. But when I try to explain that, it's usually the same "don't get intimated!" "you're all just starting!" "you're going to be fine!" etceteras etceteras. Not necessarily untrue, but not necessarily true either.

I'm going into a program where I am leaps and bounds behind literally everyone. People older than me, people younger than me, doesn't matter. And it feels like as hard as I work, I'm always missing something. Always 10, 15, 20, 100 steps behind everyone else. We just had a month of an online intensive orientation where we were interacting, and talking on discussion boards, and doing homework... And somehow, I still cant get everything fully right. Down to choosing the wrong kind of photo to go on my fucking introduction slide. Like come on! Seriously!? I can't even get that right? It's...

Yeah. It's.

So here I am, sitting on my bed, with my smart lights set to purple, in a too big Spider-Man cardigan, with a Taylor Swift lofi playlist going on youtube, contemplating yet again how the fuck I got here.

I made the joke to my mom that I was just the diversity pick. She didn't find that nearly as funny as I did. I digress.

We're... working on it. Kind of, at least. Pretending to, more accurately.

I just feel... like I'm in a constant state of having to prove myself, because nothing is ever enough. Nothing has ever been enough. I have worked so hard to the point where I have been on the brink of passing out before and even that still was not fucking enough.

Enough for who? For me? For my parents? For the metaphorical "them"? For anyone? I don't know. All of the above?

For that, I have no concrete answer and yet piles and piles and piles of evidence showing that nothing has in fact ever been enough.

I'm complaining too much, aren't I? I know it's not. World ending. There are bigger things. "People are dying Kim!" I know (also no, my name is not Kim, please understand the reference I'm begging lol).

Just some casual almost 9pm thoughts I guess.

I have work tomorrow, had the day off today. I started a new job and of course that happened at the same time as the online intensive so maybe that exasperated all these feelings since I really have had not a goddamn clue as to what has been happening for almost a month now but. I digress. But the job is going pretty okay. Slowly, I've been able to start to figure that out. And I somehow made it to the Eras Tour this weekend which was mind meltingly amazing. So I shouldn't complain. I really don't have anything to complain about at all.

And yet.

And yet.

And yet.

Well, I'm gonna fuck off and read some fanfic now. If for whatever reason someone tortured themselves and made it to the end, whats your fic poison of choice lately? I've been reading loads of Irondad & Spiderson fics. Give me Peter "I take care of everyone but don't know how to take care of myself because I think I'm fine" Parker and Tony "100% has a heart and just wants his idiot pseudo son to realize it's okay for people to help you" Stark all day.

...does that reveal too much? Eh. It's fine, I'm fine.

-Seven

07.24.2023

[tekni-kali]

Day 26

10:19p, Wednesday May 24, 2023

Today is an orange day. Not necessarily because the day was borderline bad, but moreso because I personally did not do a good job managing my hyper-fixation on completing work. I started at 8, like normal, and signed off at 7p. I mentioned to Behb just before bed that I've been forgetting to take the sad brain pills in the afternoon, then asked if he noticed me exhibiting any sad brain symptoms as of late. I wasn't really prepared for his answer...but he's also not wrong...He said no, not sad brain symptoms, which is good, just that I've been working too much. Like I could've gotten off 2 hours earlier today but I just kept on keeping on 'til I finished my own self-assigned task.

I feel especially crumby about it now because he was off work today. Yea, I made progress on the thing, but at what cost? A couple hours to do whatever I wanted with him, I guess. Yeah...I'll have to do better about that. I'd much rather do a whole lot of nothing with him than waste more time trying to meet unreasonable self-imposed KPI's and checkpoints. If work's not going to define a career path and metrics to measure my performance...I really should be better about being more lenient on myself about it too.

I suppose as punishment for this heinous transgression, I could order me to update the resume or resume the tech writing cert course or put together a better portfolio of content or peruse some job boards or maybe the best punishment will be to force me to not even think about professional stuffs for some defined period of time because Brain def spends more time running those thoughts in the background. It really does get exhausting.

So....enough about work I guess...moving on...

Behb made a heckin' tasty fish for dinner! We paired it with pasta and I was very full by the time I finished stuffing my face...but I did not take a nap today!! Probably because I spent nap time working -.-

okay okay...actually moving on now...

Uhm..let's see? Not much else to re-cap on for the day. I should probably call my mom tomorrow. I can't remember if I replied to her text....OH! Someone else texted me today too and I kinda totally forgot about it 'til just now...well...I remembered while I was washing dishes but then forgot again til just now...so I guess I"ll go reply to that...newai...

Catch ya later!

-10:44p

[beels-burger-babe]

Hi! I saw that requests are open, if it's not a problem could i request Satan reacting to MC coming to him with new books every time they hang out because they want him to read them out loud since they have a short attention span? Like, Satan would be reading said book while MC is drawing or doing something else.

I have adhd and reading books that are not digital is a nightmare for me, so him reading out loud would be pretty relaxing.

Btw it's up to you if you wanna do headcanons or a oneshot!

ABSOLUTELY!!! So this is actually my first request and I'm super excited because as someone who also has ADHD I can totally relate! I hope you like it!

Too Still, Too Quiet

GN!MC with ADHD Summary: Satan notices that MC seems to have a hard time hanging out with him; he's determined to get to the bottom of the issue and find a solution.

After living in the House of Lamentation for nearly a year, you've grown accustomed to the many quirks that came with living with the seven Lords of the Devildom. You had gotten close to the brothers, and as they picked up on your symptoms for your ADHD, they each found their own ways of being helpful. Lucifer had always known, as it was written on your file, and made a point of sending you subtle reminders throughout the day to keep you organized and on task. He brushed it off saying that it merely prevented him from having to go after you later on if you forgot or did something incorrectly.  Mammon was no stranger to having a hard time prioritizing and staying focused and took pride in lending you some of the different tools he used to fidget with. After all, his human deserved the best, and you couldn’t get any better than using something that belonged to the great Mammon. Leviathan’s room provided a relaxing atmosphere with just enough stimulation to keep your brain satisfied enough to focus on your school work and tasks. The sounds of the aquarium provided a fantastic back ground noise, and Levi always took caution in wearing his headphones when he gamed if you were working in his room to not add to the distractions around you.  Asmodeus had a good eye for when you were growing too frustrated by the regular chaos that tended to fill the House of Lamentation and would pull you aside to his room for some self-care to help calm you down. There was nothing like a head message and face mask from Asmo as he happily gossiped about the latest drama in The Fall to help ground you.  Beelzebub, on the other hand, was great at noticing when you were starting to grow restless. In those moments, he’d not-so-subtly state that he was heading to the gym and it’d sure be nice if he had someone to join in before very obviously making eye contact with you. At first you had a hard time figuring out a good balance between a work out that satisfied Beel while also not killing you. But now the two of you easily worked with each other until you were both sweating, smiling, and happy. He also made sure to remind you to eat through out the day whenever you went to a round of hyper-fixation on something. Belphegore wasn’t particularly helpful when it came to your forgetful spells or disorganization as, being the Avatar of Sloth, he would normally encourage such behavior. Instead, he did what he did best, and helped put your wandering mind to ease whenever you were trying to sleep.  The only person, and not for a lack of trying, that you just couldn’t seem to find a flow with was Satan. 

He was too quiet and organized for you to be able to stand being around him for long periods of time. You had tried hanging out with him a couple of times, but after a few minutes of him silently reading or him explaining whichever text he was currently studying, you would grow restless and distracted.  Which brought you to your current situation.  Satan had invited you to come relax in his room with him, as the rest of his brothers were dealing with the aftermath of their most recent dilemma. It wasn’t so bad at first, some light conversation here, some banter there, but soon your mind started to wander off to the spines of the endless books around you as you pondered on what might be inside them.  “MC?”  Your attention snapped back onto Satan, who stood frowning at you. You blushed and scratched the back of your neck. “Oh, I’m sorry. I got a little distracted. What were you saying?”  Satan sighed as his frown deepened.  “I’ve noticed that tends to happen a lot with you. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” He quickly amended raising his hands in defense. “But it seems particularly bad when you’re with me. You get quite jittery and I don’t think you’ve ever stayed in my room longer than ten minutes,” for a second his eyes almost looked sad as he looked over at you, “Is it something I’m doing? Do I make you uncomfortable?”  “No! Satan, no, it’s not you I promise!” You quickly reassured moving closer to him. “It’s just well I have a hard time staying still and focusing on things and when it gets too quiet it bothers me because then my brain is like hyper fixating on the smallest noises in the room, even though I’m supposed to be focusing on what you’re saying or my work, and it’s like, is that a page a turning or a something scratching at the door and then I start wondering about what kind of things could be in here and-”  “MC.” Satan cut off, though he didn’t seem annoyed. In fact, his eyes now gleamed with a sense of understanding. “Do you happen to have ADHD?”  “Yeah, I thought you all knew? Lucifer told all of you when I arrived right? That’s why everyone is so-” you moved your hand in a vague gesture that even you weren’t entirely sure what it was meant to symbolize.  Satan huffed and shook his head. “Lucifer did no such thing. I imagine he would’ve told us if it came to be a big enough problem. But you know him. He takes pride in being the only one to know certain things. “  You frowned and tilted your head in confusion. “But then what about the others? They’ve all been helping me out for months now.”  Satan placed a hand under his chin in thought, “They most likely took note of individual symptoms and decided to help. Belphegore, and possibly even Leviathan and Asmodeus may have put two and two together, but the rest probably think you’re just forgetful or that you’re restless,” he smiled reassuringly at you, “but that’s besides the point. Now that I know, I can help make you feel more at ease when you’re with me. What’s the main issue that you-” “It’s too quiet!” You quickly cut off, causing Satan to raise an eyebrow. “When we’re in here relaxing and you’re just reading and I’m supposed to be reading too, it’s too quiet. I try to focus on the book, but my mind keeps jumping around to other things. And I want to read all those books you’ve recommended to me, I really do, but I start feeling bored after a little while and next thing I know I jumping sentences without noticing and then I’ve gone an entire chapter with no recollection of what I’ve just read because I wasn’t really paying attention to the words at all I was just flipping pages without realizing it, so I have to go back and re-read the whole thing all over again!” You throw your hands in the air in frustration. “Is exhausting and makes me feel dumb, so I get up and do something else instead.”  Satan nodded, taking in every word carefully. “Well first of all,” you yelped as he flicked your forehead.  “Ouch! What was that for?!”  The demon smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “For calling yourself dumb. Just because you have more difficulty with literature than others, does not mean you’re dumb. You simply require a different reading strategy than what most consider “usual”, and I believe I have a solution that would suit both of us,” you perked up at his words. “I recommended those books to you because I greatly enjoyed them myself. How about, when you’re here, you can choose a book you want to read, and I will read it out loud for you? That should help, yes?”  A light airy warmth filled your chest at just how accommodating Satan was willing to be. “But what about the books that you were reading?”  The demon shrugged, “I can always read them in my spare time.” He moved closer to take your hands into his, silently demanding your full attention. “I want to spend more time with you and get to know you better. I want you to be comfortable and be able to be yourself when you’re around me without feeling stressed. This is honestly the least I could do for you, MC.”  Blushed rushed to your cheeks as you felt your heart flutter in your chest. You awkwardly cleared your throat and took your hands back, rubbing them on your legs as you noted how clammy they were. “I think I-I would like that a lot” The grin on Satan’s face widened as he took one of your hands and lead you deeper into the bookshelves of his room. “Splendid! Then why don’t we get try right away? Take you pick, MC, I will be your narrator for the evening and for as long as you wish.”  ***** I hope this was something along the lines of what you were looking for! It is a little short, but I hope you like it. Thank you so much for the request, I loved it! Requests are OPEN and I would definitely love to complete some more if anyone has any ideas or prompts that they’d like me to complete. Just send in an ask and, if I feel comfortable with it, I’ll do my best to make a fic for it!

[heroinejinx]

‘A proper drink’ - Advices and Vices, part 1 of ? (CaitJinx Modern AU)

So, another fic to add to my bow, this time in the form of a crack ship! 

‘Advices and Vices’ is named after the Chelsea Wolfe song of the same name, which is part of my PistolWhip spotify playlist which you can listen to here !!

AO3 link here

My hyper-fixation made me do it lol enjoy!

(4,520 words)

Alone at a bar in Zaun, Caitlyn nursed a gin and tonic. The ice had melted, and the liquid was becoming room temperature. She’d made one drink last over an hour. It was a useless talent: the ability to wait for someone she knew wasn’t coming.

Vi was a no show, once again. She refused to sign the divorce papers. Refused to even discuss the situation like adults. She was lashing out, angry and hurt. Still, Caitlyn had hoped to keep things civil, hence the drinks. Neutral location. Easy escape route. Cards on the table. It seemed like the perfect solution when she thought of it. But, of course, Vi disagreed.

They always disagreed.

Caitlyn stayed and waited until the clock fixed to the wall above the bar crept towards ten. Two hours after they were supposed to meet, and still no Vi. Caitlyn was at her limit. She downed what remained of her drink, grimaced at the strength of it as it slid down her throat, and stepped away from the bar. That was that, then. Communication breakdown. Vi had made her point: she was beyond reasoning with.

The cool night air smacked at her cheeks as she left the bar. She looked up at the cloudy sky, reflecting the green of The Lanes’ neon lights, and let out a sigh of disappointment. Things could’ve been so different. Why was Vi like this? How had things turned so bitter between them?

An unmistakable cackle brought her gaze back to the street. Not now. Right in front of her, head tilted and grinning ear to ear, was the last person she expected to see.

‘Well, if it isn’t my soon-to-be ex-sister-in-law,’ Jinx drawled. ‘What’re you doing out so late? Isn’t it past your bedtime?’

Sister-in-law? Caitlyn saw red. Vi’s bond with her younger sister had strained to near breaking point over the years, with Jinx often blaming Caitlyn for the distance, and now that it was all over, they were suddenly sisters-in-law!? Gods, everything that girl said was pure venom, designed to hurt and sting and eat away at you.

‘You’re barely a sister to Vi, let alone anyone else,’ Caitlyn raged. ‘And yes, it is getting late. She’s stood me up. I’m going home.’

‘Ouch.’ Jinx pouted and wiped a pretend tear from her cheek. Sidled up to the entrance, closer to Caitlyn. ‘Well, don’t be boring, Kiramman. Have a drink with me instead.’

‘A what?’

‘No hard feelings, I swear,’ Jinx said, a shade more serious. ‘I’ll even pay.’

She’d pay? With what, Silco’s blood money?

Somehow Caitlyn couldn’t say that out loud. Jinx was being strange, almost pleasant. They had built their relationship on forced civility and underhand mockery. No favours, no kindness, nothing remotely friendly. Caitlyn couldn’t think of a time they’d spent one on one that didn’t end with them tearing chunks out of each other. So, why then? Vi was crashing at their friend Ekko’s place, heartbroken, yet there Jinx was, engaging with the woman responsible, offering an olive branch to someone she’d never even liked before. Where was her loyalty? It felt like a trick, but Jinx wasn’t usually one for mind games. The sisters’ mutual, brutal honesty was a trait Caitlyn had always admired.

Jinx opened the door, forcing Caitlyn to decide: walk away, or stay?

‘After you, sis,’ Jinx winked.

Caitlyn groaned and rolled her eyes at the blatant mockery but didn’t leave. Instead, she re-entered the bar with a swing in her step. Fine. If Vi wouldn’t speak to her directly, she could do it through her sister. Good enough.

She entered first, with Jinx close behind. Rather than slouch at the bar like before, she made a beeline for a table nearby and settled into one of the padded leather armchairs surrounding it.

As Jinx waited for service at the bar, Caitlyn watched her. Scanned her up and down, as though staring at her would somehow help explain what was happening. She wore her usual, grungy get-up, worlds away from Caitlyn’s smart casual blazer, blouse, and chinos. The alternative look suited her. She couldn’t imagine Jinx in any other style. It wasn’t Caitlyn’s taste, but it was Jinx all over, and she owned it. She always looked good; Caitlyn conceded to herself. Vi and Jinx had their looks in common, too.

‘Gin and tonic for the lady,’ Jinx said.

She handed Caitlyn her drink and plopped down in the chair opposite, careful not to spill any of the cocktail she’d gotten for herself. It was bright pink with tiny specks of glitter floating around inside. Classic Jinx.

Drinks with Jinx. Caitlyn was having drinks with Jinx… It felt like stepping into a parallel universe.

‘Thanks,’ Caitlyn said. ‘And what’s that abomination?’

‘Unicorn daiquiri,’ Jinx shrugged and took a sip. ‘Yum.’

‘Only you would order something so vile-sounding,’ Caitlyn jibed.

‘Okay,’ Jinx scoffed and put her drink down on the table. ‘I’m trying not to be a bitch here, Cait. Like, I’m actually trying to be nice, so…’

‘Oh.’ Taken aback, Caitlyn wasn’t sure what to say. She gulped down some of her drink and fidgeted with her necklace, as her cheeks grew hot with discomfort.

How was she supposed to talk to Jinx without ridiculing her? It was the only dynamic they’d ever shared. And how the hell was she supposed to know Jinx was trying to be nice!? As a matter of course, Jinx was not nice.

‘Y’know what, it’s fine,’ Jinx said. ‘I get it. You’re, uh… you’re going through a lot right now. I’m probably the last person you wanna be around.’

‘Pretty much.’ Caitlyn spoke from her gut without passing it through her brain first, but a pinch of compassion made her soften a little, and she recalibrated; if Jinx was trying, she could at least meet her halfway. ‘Although, in fairness, I can think of worse company.’

‘Jayce?’ Jinx’s joke made them both chuckle.

‘Ah, he means well,’ Caitlyn snickered. ‘Poor bastard.’

‘What about Vi…?’ Jinx bit her lip, as though she was nervous for the answer.

‘What about Vi?’ Caitlyn countered. Enraged. ‘She was supposed to meet me here tonight and stood me up. Did you know that?’

Jinx shook her head, but she didn’t look surprised. Caitlyn continued ranting, regardless.

‘We were meant to finally have a proper, adult conversation about everything but, of course, she’s not ready for any of that, is she? No. She’d rather bury her head in the sand and pretend none of this is happening.’

‘Well, she loves you, Cait,’ Jinx said, and shifted in her seat like her body rejected the words. ‘She’s probably gonna be like this a while; she’s stubborn like that.’

‘Yeah, don’t I know it,’ Caitlyn grumbled, fed up.

It was beyond belief that she was confiding in Jinx about all of this, so out of the blue, but what else could she have done? The pressure of it weighed on her, impacting her chest. She had to talk to someone other than Vi. Her father was too nice, her mother too judgemental, and Jayce was far too invested in his research to concern himself with trivial issues like, oh, say, human emotions.

Sitting there with Jinx, just the two of them, it occurred to her how few people she had in her life. She couldn’t think of a single other person who would’ve chosen to sit there with her like that, just talking, hanging out, letting her open up. Encouraging her, even. Jinx was always unpredictable, but this took the cake.

Caitlyn found herself smiling a sincere, heartfelt smile, and decided to embrace the unexpected change to her evening, and the unusual company.

‘I just want… need… to move on,’ she explained. ‘It’s been six months since I filed, Jinx. Six months I’ve waited for her to sign those bloody papers.’

‘Okay, and? You left her, Cait,’ Jinx stated, matter of fact. ‘She doesn’t owe you anything.’

‘Right. Except a little human decency, maybe.’

‘Well, people in pain don’t have a whole lot of room for decency.’ Jinx was more acquainted with pain than most. She and Vi weren’t too close those days, but it must’ve been hard seeing her sister like that. ‘Maybe you’d understand pain better if you’d ever really experienced any,’ she added, her tone a little too scathing for comfort.

What happened to trying to be nice?

‘Because ending my marriage of three years was so easy and pain-free for me?’ Caitlyn spat out without thinking.

‘Oh, please,’ Jinx sniped back. ‘Leaving Vi was a relief. Admit it.’

‘A relief?’ Caitlyn smarted. That one hurt. Too close to home. ‘What the hell is this, Jinx? I don’t get it. One minute, you want to get drinks, tell me you’re trying to be nice — whatever that means — and the next you’re laying into me, making me sound like some kind of heartless bitch. If you’re just here to argue, I’d rather go home.’

‘Sorry,’ Jinx held her hands up in mock surrender. ‘We’ll table it. Or eighty-six it. Whatever the phrase is. Let’s just… talk about something else.’

‘No,’ Caitlyn said plainly. ‘No. We’ve started now; might as well finish.’

Bracing herself, she took a gulp of the bitter gin and tonic, thought it wasn’t nearly strong enough. If she and Jinx were really having this conversation, she’d need at least five more. Maybe the whole bottle.

‘What makes you think I’m relieved?’ She dared to ask.

Jinx’s eyes flared a little, then narrowed with intrigue as she sat forward, arms resting on her lap, head tilted, holding Caitlyn’s glare. The smudged out black around her lids made her blue irises glisten even more than usual. Caitlyn grew hot under her restrictive suit jacket, as Jinx reached for her drink and took a sip of the sparkling liquid. Chewing pensively on the straw, Jinx refocused on Caitlyn.

For a long moment, they just sat and looked at each other, until Jinx broke the fixation with a snicker, a shake of her head, and another sip of her sickly-sweet cocktail.

‘That,’ Jinx said pointedly, still snickering, ‘that’s what.’

Caitlyn felt flustered, like Jinx had duped her, ‘…what?’

‘You never looked at Vi like that.’

Oh, gods. ‘Like what?’

‘Like you wanted to ruin her.’ The words rolled off Jinx’s tongue, silky smooth and self-assured.

Where the hell did that come from!?

Caitlyn spluttered, almost choked on her drink. Cleared her throat. Tried desperately to compose herself. ‘Excuse me?’

Jinx thought… Jinx actually thought that Caitlyn wanted to… Nope, she wasn’t recovering from that one anytime soon. She couldn’t decide if she felt offended or amused or called out. All of the above, probably.

‘Kidding!’ Jinx erupted in laughter and took another sip of her drink, as the colour returned to Caitlyn’s cheeks.

The audacity was unbelievable. Where the hell did Jinx get the nerve to make jokes like that? Did she realise there was truth to it? Fuck. More gin hit the back of Caitlyn’s throat, and she winced.

‘Okay, but seriously,’ Jinx levelled out, grin fading, ‘all I meant was you never really looked at Vi like you were interested in what she had to say.’

‘What?’ Whatever Caitlyn felt before, that remark had definitely offended her. ‘Of course, I was interested!’

‘Not that interested.’

‘Yes, I was!’ She prickled, conflicted at defending the quality of a connection she’d already said goodbye to.

‘Come on, Cait,’ Jinx drawled. ‘Why deny it? I’m not saying you weren’t in love with her, but you don’t exactly have much in common. The two of you were kind of an odd mix from the get-go. Brains and brawn, you know.’

‘Opposites attract,’ she said feebly.

‘Right,’ Jinx said, quirking a cynical brow. ‘Until they realise how badly matched they are and repel each other.’

‘I’m starting to think eighty-six-ing this wasn’t such a bad idea.’

‘Okay, we won’t talk about it,’ Jinx shrugged, as if to say she didn’t care either way.

Her nonchalance was infuriating. Worse still was the smirk that followed; she knew exactly how annoyed Caitlyn was becoming, and she revelled in it.

‘Good.’ Caitlyn forced a smile and took another sip.

She’d nearly finished her drink, but Jinx had most of her cocktail left. If she wanted to, she could’ve easily made her excuses to leave there and then. Time was ticking on, getting later and later, and if they weren’t talking about the Vi situation, what was the point in talking at all? Jinx’s veil of niceties was already wearing thin. Soon, it was bound to vanish completely, and they’d be stuck in a heated confrontation with only the bartender there to pull them apart.

If Caitlyn was honest with herself, fighting with Jinx didn’t sound too bad. She was so angry at Vi for not showing. So let down. Jinx was the perfect distraction. The pair of them could argue about anything. She polished off her gin and tonic, wracking her brains for a new topic. It needed to be less triggering than the impending divorce but still bound to cause friction.

‘So,’ Jinx began, beating Caitlyn to the punch. She leant further forwards and propped her chin up on her wrist, elbow balancing on her crossed knees, ‘if Vi’s off limits, what else is there to talk about?’

‘I was just wondering the same thing,’ Caitlyn replied. ‘Are you still seeing that guy?’ The name escaped her. ‘Um… the one you work with.’

‘They’re not a guy,’ Jinx corrected. ‘They’re nonbinary, their name’s Ran, and it turns out they’re a huge asshole like all the others, so…’

Once again, Jinx shrugged, acting like what she had just said didn’t matter, but it did. Breakups were difficult, and from what Caitlyn knew from Vi, Jinx had experienced far too many; what she went through mattered very much.

‘Wow, I’m sorry,’ Caitlyn said, embarrassed by her silly mistake. Misgendering people wasn’t something she took lightly. ‘I’m not sure I ever even met them, did I? I know so little about you outside of Vi.’

‘Yup.’

‘What happened with Ran?’ Caitlyn asked out of genuine concern, but it probably seemed like she was just being nosy.

Jinx scoffed and slouched back into her chair. Glancing Caitlyn up and down in scrutiny, she bit her lip and chuckled.

‘What?’ Caitlyn demanded.

‘So, we can’t talk about your love life, but mine’s fair game?’ Jinx’s tone was teasing, but there was a warning in there somewhere, a threat behind her shimmering eyes. ‘How’s the job? Make any cool arrests lately?’

Okay, so, abrupt topic change. Caitlyn could work with that, she just had to sidestep the jab of irritation at Jinx’s choice of topic. If she wanted friction, her career choice would no doubt produce it, so there was that. Jinx knew from experience how discussions surrounding Caitlyn’s work inevitably ended badly. Maybe she was after the same thing Caitlyn was? A return to their default mode of mutual disdain. No more of that faux kindness Jinx had kicked things off with. Back to what they were both used to.

‘Why? Met any criminals lately? Other than yourself and almost everyone you associate with, of course.’ Caitlyn mocked, but a softer, almost flirtatious intonation replaced her usual edge.

That was new.

Jinx tongued her cheek and grinned, returning Caitlyn’s energy, before grimacing at her half-drunk unicorn daiquiri. ‘How about whoever invented this drink? Turns out you were right; it’s disgusting.’

Caitlyn’s head spun; she was right about something, and Jinx had freely admitted to it. This wasn’t their standard sparring. Not even close. And the energy between them… Had she misread Jinx’s intentions? What was going on?

‘Dare me to down it?’ Jinx asked.

‘…what?’

‘My drink, genius.’

Jinx giggled and stood, stretched her limbs, clicked her fingers, readying herself. And then, with a deep breath and a ‘here goes,’ she pinched her nose and drank down the rest of her foul drink in a string of hastened gulps. When it was all gone, she wiped the excess from her mouth with a triumphant grin, performed a theatrical bow for Caitlyn’s benefit, and finished with a shudder.

‘Bleugh!’ She exclaimed. ‘So, so gross!’

‘What an achievement,’ Caitlyn dryly replied, but she couldn’t deny that Jinx’s antics amused her. To her chagrin, Jinx’s company wasn’t so bad. It beat being alone with her thoughts, anyway. ‘My round, I suppose.’

‘Oh, you don’t have to keep humouring me, Cait,’ Jinx said.

It was a clear out for them to go their separate ways for the night, and probably for the rest of their lives. A short while ago, Caitlyn would’ve taken her up on it, and that would’ve been the end, but…

‘One more won’t hurt,’ Caitlyn smiled, and slung her handbag over her shoulder as she stood. ‘You need to get the taste of that shit out of your mouth.’

Before Jinx could protest, Caitlyn marched up to the bar and ordered them both a gin and tonic, but made Jinx’s the pink and fruity kind, something she’d like. As she paid, she looked over her shoulder and met Jinx’s gaze. Those penetrating eyes. It seemed the younger woman was watching her, just like Caitlyn had watched her earlier.

A jolt of excitement rippled through her before she could stop it. Fuck. No. She couldn’t let Jinx affect her like that. It was the gin, she told herself. She was tipsy and lonely, touch starved. This thing with Jinx was just drinks with someone who no longer held a place in her life. A meeting of opposing forces bound in different directions. A mutual way of saying goodbye. Nothing more.

‘Now,’ Caitlyn said, as she returned to the table and placed Jinx’s pink gin in front of her. ‘A proper drink.’

‘You really didn’t have to,’ Jinx said. She took a cautious sip, as though expecting to hate it, but the second she tasted it, her eyes lit up.

‘Good?’ Caitlyn asked. The answer was obvious from Jinx’s reaction alone, but she wanted verbal confirmation. Further acknowledgement that her instincts were right. Praise, maybe.

Chewing on her straw with a twinkling grin, Jinx looked Caitlyn up and down, lingering on her lips before flickering back to her eyes.

‘It’ll do,’ she said, playing coy. She seemed to know exactly what Caitlyn was angling for, but she wasn’t willing to give it easily. ‘So, what now?’ Her teasing tone continued, as she enjoyed more of her new drink. ‘We’ve never hung out this long without Vi or someone else interrupting.’

‘Mm,’ Caitlyn agreed. ‘To tear us apart before things turned ugly, usually.’

‘Pfft, how ugly could things have gotten, really? Who doesn’t like watching hot girls fight?’

Caitlyn twinged at the implication that Jinx found her hot. Chased the unwanted arousal down with more gin.

‘Vi, for one,’ she said, the bitterness of her drink still resting on her tongue. ‘She’d sooner knock us both out than watch us get physical like that.’

Get physical? Great choice of words, Caitlyn.

‘And look at us now,’ Jinx snickered. ‘She’d hate this even more. Her estranged little sister and almost ex-wife actually enjoying each other’s company… She wouldn’t know what to do with herself.’

It was a fair point. The scenario unfolding that night would perplex Vi beyond all reason. If they told her, she probably wouldn’t believe them, even though it was happening because of her. Her unreliability had thrust them together.

But, well, it wasn’t Vi that had kept them together. They’d made that decision for themselves. Like Jinx said, they were enjoying each other’s company. Who knew such a thing was even possible?

‘Actually, scratch that,’ Jinx said with a heavy sigh and a roll of her mesmerizing eyes, ‘I know exactly what she’d do.’

‘Oh, yeah? What’s that?’

‘She’d tell me to get the fuck away from her wife,’ Jinx said. ‘Naturally, I’d tell her to fuck off, and uh… well, I think we both know how that’d go, right?’

The words snaked under Caitlyn’s skin and lodged in her gut like sticky tar, too truthful to deny. She tried to digest them. Vi was always protective, jealous, defensive, especially when she didn’t need to be. In the end, it was partly why Caitlyn left. The redhead’s temper bested her time and time again, and Caitlyn had to pick up the pieces. They’d lost so many friendships and opportunities because Vi just couldn’t help herself. Her paranoia was too much. It made her say and do things she shouldn’t have, not caring who was there to bear witness. She even exploded around Caitlyn’s parents at the annual Progress Day Gala, humiliating everyone involved. The fact was, she needed help to cope with the trauma and bullshit of her childhood—therapy, medication, anything that might’ve brought her some peace of mind—but any time Caitlyn brought it up, it caused yet another argument.

It wasn’t hard to imagine Vi arriving at the bar, hours late and hateful, primed for a confrontation. If she saw Caitlyn and Jinx sat there, talking the way they were, gods knew what conclusions she’d spring to. She’d think they were having an affair, talking behind her back, mocking her. She’d probably do a lot worse than simply tell Jinx to leave. Jinx, her sister and only surviving family member, had been on the receiving end of Vi’s anger too many times to count.

The two were as troubled as each other, Caitlyn reminded herself. Jinx lashed out with her words, and Vi, her fists. Neither of them coped particularly well with life. Then again, neither did she, really. She was just better at pretending than they were.

‘I’m sorry,’ Caitlyn spoke into the silence that had fallen around them.

Jinx frowned, ‘for what?’

‘I just… I can’t imagine having a relationship like that with a family member,’ she admitted. ‘My parents can be a pain in the arse, but that hardly compares.’

‘Yeah, well, you’re an only child, Cait,’ Jinx said, blunt and straightforward as ever, but with a smile this time. ‘Sibling dynamics are fucking weird. Don’t worry about it.’

‘I grew up wishing I had siblings, you know. A house full of brothers and sisters, people to play with and talk to on my own level…’ Caitlyn wasn’t sure where the confession had come from, only that it was heartfelt, and it seemed like the natural thing to say. She went along with it, curious where the thought would lead her. ‘It probably sounds stupid to you, but I always felt like I was missing out on some magical part of life. D’you think… d’you think I’d be different if I wasn’t an only child? More sociable, maybe? More likeable?’

‘You are likeable, Cait,’ Jinx scoffed but kept her smile, softened her gaze, ‘honestly, I don’t think you’d be half as interesting if you weren’t so neglected and alone growing up.’

The painful truth in Jinx’s words spliced with a warm feeling of acceptance: to Jinx, Caitlyn was likeable and interesting. When and how the fuck did that happen?

‘Plus,’ Jinx continued, ‘having lots of family around isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Just means you’ve got more to lose.’

Ouch. Jinx had lost so much in her short life. So many people she’d considered family were no longer around. Dead, or worse, they’d abandoned her. So much grief. So much loss.

‘And you, Caitlyn Kiramman, are really fucking bad at losing,’ Jinx snickered, wordlessly encouraging another round of repartee.

Always the jester, especially at the expense of her own suffering. Another admirable quality.

‘I wouldn’t know,’ Caitlyn chuckled. ‘I never lose.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Jinx arched a calculating brow. ‘I seem to remember beating you at a few shooting games in the past.’

‘That’s because you cheated,’ Caitlyn gladly reminded her. ‘In a fair match, I’d win, hands down.’

‘Still with the cheating allegations?’ Jinx shook her head. Drank down more of the tasty pink gin concoction. ‘You really can’t handle losing, can you?’

‘Of course, I can,’ Caitlyn retorted, growing a little defensive. ‘When it’s earned.’

‘Pfft, I more than earned it,’ Jinx rebuffed. ‘You just can’t take it when someone’s better than you.’

‘Come on,’ Caitlyn scoffed. ‘It’s not about being better or worse, it’s—’

‘Bullshit!’ Jinx interrupted, springing forwards across the small table so they were almost nose to nose. ‘I’m a better shot than you are, and it kills you.’

Her breath tickled Caitlyn’s lips. It was sweet and heady with booze and the slightest trace of cigarette smoke, almost irresistible… it seemed so easy to lean in a little further and…

What the hell was she thinking!?

It was like Jinx read her mind. She remained in Caitlyn’s personal space, propped up by her strong wrists either side of Caitlyn’s folded, sweaty hands and half-supped gin and tonic. Caitlyn fiddled with her rings and the stem of her glass, shifted in her seat, avoiding Jinx’s astute stare however she could. A long, slender finger traced her jaw and hooked under her chin, forcing her to look back up.

‘Admit it,’ Jinx said, huskier than before. Her nail dug into Caitlyn’s skin. ‘Or are you gonna deny this, too?’

Cheeks on fire and her core throbbing, Caitlyn steadied her breathing and examined the provocative woman a hair’s breadth away from her face.

‘Fine, I’ll admit it,’ she said. ‘Leaving Vi was a relief.’

Jinx’s eyes sparkled as she spoke. ‘And?’

‘And…’

Caitlyn met Jinx’s coaxing finger with her own. Stroked over the slope of bone and wrinkles of the joint, up to the knuckle, where finger transitioned into hand. Jinx’s hands were soft, not what Caitlyn expected of someone whose main pastime was fixing and dismantling whatever technology she could find. Vi was a builder by trade, and her hands were rough and calloused, but Jinx’s…

‘I’m definitely the better shot,’ Caitlyn teased, and bridged the tiny gap between them with a kiss before Jinx could respond with another witty comeback.

If she could’ve blamed it on the alcohol, she would have, but she wasn’t drunk enough for that. Caitlyn was in control, perfectly aware of what she was doing. Her reasoning was… well, she wasn’t listening much to reason. She listened to her gut, and her gut told her she wanted this. She wanted Jinx and all the mess that inevitably came with her.

Their kiss lingered a few seconds before Jinx pulled away. Her wet lips parted in a hazy grin, but her quizzical eyes and the downwards tug of her brow betrayed her confusion. Caitlyn watched, stupefied by her own actions, as Jinx’s mouth shifted to form speech, preparing to ask questions Caitlyn had no answers for.

‘Your round,’ Caitlyn blurted out. Neither of them had finished their current glassful, but it was all she could think to say.

Jinx stood and collected herself. Gave Caitlyn a rushed, hesitant smile, almost like she’d grown shy. Jinx was never shy. Never.

‘I need a cigarette,’ she said, and darted outside, leaving Caitlyn in disarray.

[what-the--curtains]

In a Week

Part 2/4 - The Importance of Being Idle

(Frankie Morales x f!reader)

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Summary: Things get easier between you and Frankie as the storm outside rages on.

Authors notes: Hello! Sorry this took so long (I forgot I had a lab report due this week so I was busy panic writing 6000 words the patient few days!) anyways this is soft makes my heart happy 🥺 thank u for all the support in the story💕💕

Tw: Swearing, dead sibling mentioned (I think that’s all)

Work count: 4.9k

Tagged: @agingerindenial @icanbeyourjedi

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 2

You don’t know when,or how it happened, but sometime during the night you had found your way over to the heat being emitted from human furnace Frankie Morales. Your limbs were wrapped lazily around him, with your leg over his and your arm resting idly on his chest. You blink into the light emitting a dissatisfied grumble realizing you had woken up. You hear a sigh from above and with one eye still closed, you tilt your head up to see Frankie currently hyper focused on winning whatever game he was playing on his phone.

"You could have woken me up you know.” You say, detaching from him and rolling over onto your back rubbing your eyes. “How long have you been awake?" you ask, yawning.

"Few hours, you’re quite the sleeper, slept through all 4 alarms that went off." He responds, still fixated on his phone.

"Shit, sorry about that. My mother used to say I could sleep for England" you state, earning a soft chuckle from the man beside you. Even after years of working on hospital hours, waking up was always a struggle for you, no matter the time of day. After a few moments of contemplating whether you really had to move, you rip off the covers and scoot out of bed. Tearing open the curtains you let out a dissatisfied groan when you see a snowscape where the parking lot once was. You turn around arms crossed, eyes glazed over inadvertently boring into him. You hear him say something but it doesn't register.

“What?” you ask, shaking yourself from the trance and moving towards your over packed bag to retrieve clean clothes.

“Nothing.” he says, eyes back on his phone. You raise your eyebrows and head into the bathroom to get changed, emerging in sweats and a vintage band shirt that you’d tied at the waist.

"The clash? Nice." Frankie says, as he passes by you into the bathroom, closing the door.

"Ya London Calling" you respond sitting down on the bed and pulling on some socks, not fully listening to what he had said. "I’m going to ask the front desk if we can renew the room, doesn't look like we're going anywhere anytime soon. I can see if there's another one available if you don’t wanna share" You say, when you hear the doors lock click open, knowing he may still be mad at you for not pulling over sooner.

"I mean I don't mind sharing, unless you’d be more comfortable..." he starts, mouth hanging open downturned slightly, as he rinses his hands.

“I’m fine sharing, nice to have some company plus it's cheaper this way.” you say, grabbing the room key off the nightstand.

"Let me know how much it is, I'll pay half" he says, stretching out his back, cursing the mattress for being too soft.

"I feel like you should be paying more since you get the good half of the bed.” you offer, pointing your finger at him.

“I think they call that extortion,” he says, grinning “Oh, see if they have any food while you're down there I’m starving” he calls as you exit into the hallway and make your way downstairs.

“Hey, I was looking to re-book the room from last night” you say to the receptionist who you recognized from last night. Suppose she got stuck here as well, you wonder if she’d gotten any sleep.

“For how many more nights?” she asks.

“How long do you think this storm is going to last?” You ask.

“At least a few more days, but then the roads will have to be cleared, so maybe a week? We can book you in for two more nights then go from there though, no one else will be coming in”

“That’d be great,” you say, taking out your credit card. “What about food, is there any way we can get some stuff to make sandwiches or something?” you ask

“Well the culinary staff was trapped here by the storm, another reason why so many rooms were booked, so they’ll be able to have food sent up.” You nod, the hotel was upscale and you hated to think how expensive the food was going to be, but what choice did you have?

“It's past breakfast, but we may have some spare sandwiches leftover, let me just go check.” she offers, returning a few minutes later with a couple of boxes.

“Thank you so much!” you say taking the boxed up food from her.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“Oh yes” you say, “booze, can I buy that here?”

“That, we have plenty of!” she smiles.

~~~~~

You re-enter the room with the boxed up breakfasts, a case of beer and two bottles of wine

“Here food” you say, sliding the boxes off the beer and onto the counter next to the fridge.“We missed breakfast, so it’s probably cold, and I booked the room for another two nights, but we can go from there” you say, reiterating the receptionist's words as you place the drinks in the fridge.

“Planning on sharing that or?” he laughs watching you strategically maneuver the booze into the fridge

“Hey, I get a week off work, I'm going to be drinking. Do I wish it was on a beach in sunny south Carolina? Yes, but this will have to do, and I hate drinking alone so congratulations you’ve just been conscripted” You say, as he empties out one of the breakfasts onto a plate placing it in the microwave for a few minutes.

“Here. Do you want this? You say peeling the sliced ham off your sandwich” waving it infront of his face.

“Not a fan of ham?” he asks, taking it and adding it into his own.

“Not a fan of meat in general, I’m a vegetarian”

“Course you are.” he laughs.

“Bold words coming from a guy wearing a baseball hat inside, in the middle of winter” you say, throwing a balled up napkin at his head.

“So what exactly do you do? Santi never said.” he asks, leaving you to question what Santiago had said about you.

“I’m a doctor, well almost a doctor one more year of residency, hopefully” you say, crossing your fingers.

“Shit, aren’t you kinda young to be a doctor?” he asks, looking you up and down with raised eyebrows.

“Older than I look, but thank you. How about you?”

“I was a pilot, me and Pope served together for a while, but I’m mainly just teaching now. How’d you two meet by the way? I’ve never seen you round base before, I’m sure I’d remember you hanging around” he says.

“He basically lived at my house growing up, well until he went into the military when I was in middle school. ”

“I thought you said you weren’t young” he laughs “So you didn't serve?”

“No, my brother did though, he was a few years older than Santi but they were inseparable.” you state, preparing yourself for the imminent conversation.

“Who?” Frankie asks, slightly offended that Pope had a secret best friend he never introduced to him.

“His name was Parker '' you say, hoping the past tense clues Frankie in.

“Ya I’ve met Parker! Good guy what branch is he in these days?” he says, not picking up on your word selection or how your mouth hangs slightly ajar or how your eyes have gone vacant.

“Was in” is all you say, you avert your gaze staring down at the floor “he passed five years ago in active duty”

“Shit, I’m sorry I…” he stumbles over his words trying to form a coherent sentence.

“Not your fault how were you supposed to know, besides I'm sure you’ve lost your fair share of people.” you say offering him a not very convincing, but reassuring smile. You let the awkwardness hang in the air, not wanting to speak first.

“What... kind of doctor are you?” he says, hoping to cut the tension he’d caused.

“Medical, diagnostics.” you say, exhaling as the easiness you felt around Franki came back.

“So like House?” He asks.

“Ya cane and all.” you laugh, his lopsided grin having returned to his face, as he leans in to grab your plate.

“Hey, I uh.. I need to make a phone call.” He says, washing the dishes in the sink.

“I'll make myself scarce, give you some privacy. Is it fine if I'm in the shower or did you want me to fully vacate the premise? I can go down to the gym for a bit.” you offer.

“Showers perfect.” He says, mentally questioning his word choice there. He waits to hear the water run before pulling out his phone and dialing his mother who was currently watching his daughter for what was only supposed to be a few days.

You let the water wash over you turning on some music to drown out the conversation Frankie was having, not wanting to pry on his personal life. You did find yourself wondering who he was calling just simple curiosity, nothing else. You had decided you liked Frankie despite the rocky start, the more time you spent with him the more you felt like you'd known him for years. You could see why he and Santiago got along so well they were two sides of the same coin, his calm nicely balancing out Santiago's rashness. Or should you call him Pope? What kind of nickname was that, and Santiago was anything but a saint. You made a mental note to ask Frankie for the origin stories later he may be more forthcoming about it than Santiago. Lathering your hair you close your eyes, allowing Frankie’s image to come to the forefront of your mind. He had an old beauty, a kind of beauty that was suited to a ruler of a long forgotten empire. You begin to feel the water run cold, had you really been in the shower that long? You turn off the tap and dry yourself off redonning your sweats and tying the Clash shirt into a crop. As you exit the bedroom you’re met at the door by Frankie who hands you a cup of coffee.

“Thanks” you say smiling up at him.

“Take it as an apology for being an ass yesterday, I was tired and shouldn’t have thrown a tantrum about it, you don’t control the weather”

“Well I guess I should apologize as well for not listening to you, especially considering you’re the one with training in navigating radars.”

The rest of the day is spent in relative silence breaking into conversation every once in a while about nothing in particular. You sit on the couch reading while he sits in the chair across from you book in hand as the news plays faintly in the background. The storm had been dubbed “snowmageddon” by the anchors, not particularly innovative but it got the point across, 20cm had fallen and another 30 was being predicted you groaned internally thinking about how long it was gonna take you to clear off your car. At least you'd have military help. Dinner comes and goes and he doesn't ask you many questions, unsurprising considering how the last conversion had turned out. Instead you tell him about the weirdest cases you’d ever seen come through the hospital and he tells you about the incidents that got him and Santi sent to the hospital.

“Alright I'm going to turn in” he says, as you look up from the rabbit hole you'd currently found yourself stuck in.

“Shit ya good call” you say closing your phone and rubbing your eyes. Once again he beats you to the bed, giving him a prime position to watch in amusement as you dig through your bag.

“Lost something? Seriously, how deep is that bag? What are you looking for?” he inquires.

“Normal pyjamas” you mutter, all concentration currently being used to find something appropriate to sleep in.

“What pray tell are normal pyjamas?” he asks, a confused look plastered across his face.

“Let's just say a certain king of sleepwear was packed for someone who was suppose to be at the wedding”

“Who?” he asks.

“Ah ha!” you cry victoriously, pulling out your day-to-day sleepwear. You exit the bathroom in the silk sleep set you’d gotten a few years back. Frankie’s eyes widen slightly when he sees you emerge, the pyjamas leaving little to the imagination. If those were your normal pyjamas he didn't want to think about what the other ones were. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable by coming off as a creep. Which he was already feeling like by ogling you as you bent over the sink spitting out your toothpaste. His eyes dart down to look at his hands as you walk around the bed to bed, only looking up once the covers are pulled up over you. He turns off the lamp and settles into the mattress, placing his hands on his chest and closing his eyes.

“Please for the love of god, stop moving” he mumbles after 15 minutes of patiently waiting for you to stop wriggling. Your eyes open as you shift again, completely aware of how annoying you must be to him.

“I know I'm sorry, I‘m just..” you move one more time, balling your fists up and slamming them into the mattress in frustration.

“Not comfy” he finishes for you, eyes opening staring up at the ceiling.

“Ya especially since someone took my side of the bed” you bemoan.

“Look, you’ve already slept wrapped around me once, so you can... do it again. If it’s the easiest way for you to sleep.” he says hoping the offer comes off as sincere, and not weird. You chew your lower lip for a second before accepting the fact that it was the only way you’d be able to sleep. He lifts his arms above his head allowing you to position yourself comfortably on top of him, before lowering them down. One hand on his stomach and the other wrapped around your shoulder.

“Don’t even think about trying...” you start, eyes batting sleepily up at him.

“I know you don’t know me well, but i'm not like that. It's not good or fun unless everyones fully and consensually on board.” With that you ease into him, trusting his words. Breathing deeply you drift off to sleep to the smell of clean laundry that you’d come to associate with Frankie.

Day 3

“Hey I'm going to the gym if you need to make a call or whatever” you say, pulling on your sneakers, feeling refreshed from the good sleeps you’d had the past two nights.

“Thanks,” he says, watching you leave before calling to check in on his daughter.

“Hey mom how is she? Good good ya, put her on would ya? Hey darling how are you! Yes I'm going to be home soon. Were just stuck in a big snow storm, did you see it? I wish you were here then we could build a snowman together! Yes just like Elsa and Anna. Yes we can watch them when I get home and absolutely I will try and save you a snowball. Alright, okay, I love you.” He says, a few minutes was more than he’d expected from the kid, toddlers aren’t known for their keen telecommunication skills after all.

“Hey mom, thanks again for watching her. This storm came outta nowhere. We're going to miss the wedding, I know they’re gonna be pissed. That’s not a swear Mom! No, I'm not alone. One of Santis friends she's a doctor. Yes, I mean I don’t know! Why does it matter? Look, I'm hanging up now. I am. No I won't be doing that I love you, I'll call later.” he hangs up shaking his head. Despite what everyone around him thought, the last thing on his mind was dating, his kid was his number one, scratch that, his only priority especially since her mother disappeared in the night. Leaving nothing but a note about having other reasons to live. Whatever the hell that meant. He hears the key unlock the door and watches as you re-enter, not stopping to make conversation, bee-lining straight for the shower. Knowing he’d have a good half hour to kill he dials his phone again.

“Hey Pope” he says, taking the opportunity to call his friend and deliver the bad news.

“Hey ‘Fish where the hell are you guys?” he shouts from the other end, evidently in a crowded room.

“Trapped by the storm, we're not gonna make it.”

“Shit Gen’s gonna lose it, and Stella if it wasn’t for her four sisters Y/N would be in the wedding party they were roommates for years.” He stresses.

“Damn, ya man i'm really sorry, she's in the shower, but I can pass the phone to her when she's out?” Frankie offers.

“No man, don't bother her. I'll text her in a bit. Hey you guys sharing a room?” he questions, the agenda behind it obvious.

“Wasn’t much of a choice, rooms were all booked up.”

“You're sleeping on the floor I hope” A protective tone taking over.

“You know my back’s bad Pope.” he explains calmly, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

“Catfish you better keep those hands to yourself, she's not one of your nightly conquests”

“Man I haven’t been like that since my kid came along” He chuckles, knowing full well that those days were long behind him.

“I'm a serious ‘Fish, she's too good for you, and she's in no place to be fucked over by another guy alright?”

“Look I know she'd never go for me Pope and I'm flattered you think she would. Glad i'm still handsome in your eyes.I’ll call you later” he laughs, ending the conversation on a lighter note.

“Hey” you say, pulling your Boston University sweater over your head, drying out your hair with a towel.

“Pope says hi” Frankie says, hanging up the phone

“What's the nickname mean?” you question, ready to get to the bottom of it.

“That's top secret information” he taunts, shaking the phone at you.

“Oh I'm sure I could figure out a way to get it out of you.” you smirk, raising your eyebrows

“Hey! I have military training!” he exclaims, offended at the insinuation.

“Militarys got nothing on me.” you retort, slapping him on the shoulder as you pass by.

“Well, if the plan is to ply me with alcohol, it may just work” he confesses.

“Perfect” you say, heading to the fridge opening up the wine bottle “let the games begin” you say tossing him a beer bottle watching as he uses a lighter to open it before bringing it to his lips.

“So tell me what does Pope mean?” you ask after a few hours of meaningless conversations and playing a drinking game that went along with the forensic files repeats you were watching. “Is it a dick thing” you whisper yell, causing Frankie to burst out laughing.

“Why? You wanna know what it looks like?” He asks forehead creased the trace of laughter still etched on his face.

“Ew No! but I am asking if it looks like a Pope?” you say trying to hide your amusement with a stern look.

“Which Pope?” Frankie asks in an equally serious tone, curious as to where you were going with this.

“Francis?” you ask.

“Nope” He answers after pausing for a moment.

“Fred?” You ask, now entrapped in a bizarre game of guess who, but in reference to what holy figure most resembled your friends penis.

“Was there a Pope named Fred?” He asks unsuccessfully, stifling a laugh.

“Probably? There were like three Popes at once at one point in time.”

“No his dick doesn't look like the Pope, now can we please stop talking about my best friend's penis!” he exclaims.

“Fine, but this isn’t over.” you say chewing your lip trying to think of other possible explanations when a phone ringing interrupts you thought.

“Shit, Sorry I have to take this,'' he says, pulling out his phone and walking to the next room, forgetting to close the door, leaving you to inadvertently eavesdrop on his conversation.

“Good night sweety I love you to the moon and back I'll be home soon.”

Your eyes go wide as you feel your stomach sink, of course he was married, he was too nice, too easy, something had to have been off. A ick comes over you at the thought of being unknowingly draped over a married man, and you suddenly begin questioning Frankies motives.

“Sorry about that. It's my daughter she uh, I didn’t say goodnight to her last night and she missed it” he says with a slight chuckle, pride evident on his face.

“How old is she?” you ask smiling at how he lit up at being asked about his kid.

“Three” he says, grabbing another beer and grunting slightly as he sits back on the floor next to you.

“Good age” You offer, shaking off the feeling of betrayal and disappointment that had come over you for a brief moment.

“Ya she's perfect” he beams.

“I bet, I mean I don’t know what your wife looks like, but if she's got your eyes watch out world.” You offer turning to face him only to see that his smile had faded, replaced instead by a somber hurt.

“Her mothers not in the picture” He says, clearing his throat and taking a long drink.

“Shit Frankie I'm sorry” you say quickly, feeling like a prize idiot for making assumptions about his character.

“Hey I brought up your dead brother, only seems fair you bring up my ex who abandoned us.” He says with a shrug. “Don’t, don’t look at me like that” He says, shaking his head and knitting his brows together tired of being looked at like he was broken. It was horrible when it happened. It was fucking shitty that she had left her daughter without a care, but now? Hell, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Watching his daughter grow up was worth it.

“Fuck” you say, scrunching up your face “I hate when people do that to me.”

“You need another drink?” he offers, hoping to ease the sudden awkwardness into the room, one he was accustomed to after telling his dates about his kid, not that this was a date.

“Ya I need it to wash the taste of foot out of my mouth” you laugh, feeling worse than when your brother was inadvertently brought up.

“Seriously don't worry about it. Speaking of a palette cleanser you wanna watch a movie or something?” he says pouring the rest of the wine into your glass, before grabbing another drink out the fridge for himself.

“Ya but it's gotta be horror, the only thing i'm in the mood for.”

“Didn’t think bringing up my ex was that scary.” he laughs, handing you the glass.

“No, but talking about Santiago's penis was.” You deadpan, causing Frankie to snort out his drink. “What? Do all the girls say that about it? A real nightmare?” you continue, giggling as he coughs through a laugh. “Was it the inspiration for the creature from the black lagoon?” for some reason the stupid bit your doing causes Frankie to double over subsequently encouraging your own laughing fit. After the ache in your side subsides Frankie sits down on the couch next to you. Using his sleeve to wipe any spillage from his beard.

“Any preference?” you ask, leaning your head back against the couch. He shakes his head. “Alright, the Conjuring it is! I gotta pee first though, need anything before we start?” you ask, walking towards the washroom.

“Just you.” he calls out, as the door closes behind you. Fuck, why the hell did he say that. He shakes his head at how desperate it sounded. Jesus christ, he was embarrassing.

You were just tipsy enough that the bathroom's bright lights made you feel wobbly. You cross your arms as you pee, thinking about the words you’d just heard, about how he needed you. Well maybe that was a reach, but it was okay to pretend just for a night? In all honesty, even though this wasn't a date, it was definitely the best time you'd had with a guy… ever, something about him was just so easy. You flush the toilet and open the door washing your hands, hotels were so weird, why wasn't the sink in with the toilet? You felt like you needed to wipe the handle down after every use.

You flop back onto the couch next to him, closer than you’d been when you left, but leaving enough space between you. After a few jump scares that catch even the pilot off guard the two of you found yourself snuggled into each other. You knew the movie was getting to him, because the arm wrapped around your shoulder pulled you closer into his side whenever the ominous music began to play. He wouldn't say the movie was getting to him per say, it was just in his nature to protect others. Even if it was just a stpid movie he wanted to make sure you felt safe. After the movie ends you quickly separate from each other and clear up the glasses, leaving them to ‘soak’ overnight. Frankie gets to the bathroom first, again. Thirsty, you wander back out to the kitchen grabbing a glass and filling it with water jumping when you think you see a shadow move out the corner of your eye. It was strange, how you loved horror so much while watching it but the second it turned off, any sounds, or hat rack or shadow scared the living daylights out of you. At least this time there would be another person with you. After getting ready for bed you switch off the lights and make your way to the bed.

“What are you doing?” Frankie asks, watching you lift up the bedskirt peering under the bed. “Are you seriously checking under the bed right now?” He laughs, unable to get over how you, a medical professional was afraid of ghosts.

“Better safe than sorry!” you exclaim eyes wide as your head pops up.

“You can't believe in this shit can you?”

“Hey man you get sleep paralysis then tell me that shit isn’t plausible” you respond pointing a finger at him, before pushing yourself off your knees and up onto the bed.

You crawl under the covers and sit up parting your hair to braid it before going to bed.

“Can I ask you a weird favour” he asks, you panic slightly, fuck he was too good to be true, no way a guy was that sweet without an alterior motive.

“Yes, but proceed with extreme caution” you say.

“Can you teach me how to braid hair? I want to be able to do my daughter's hair but I’m pretty terrible at it. Her teacher once asked if she'd gotten caught in a bush on the way in.” Your heart jumps slightly, at the sincere revelation. How, how could one guy be this sweet, and thoughtful and not creepy?

“Of course I can show you.” you say and you proceed to give him a step by step tutorial, followed by a demonstration prior to actually letting him have at your hair so he can try and replicate the motions. Once he got the motion down you’d mistakenly tried to show him how to french-braid it down from the top.

“Be honest doc, how bad is it.” He says.

“Well, maybe we shouldn't have tried a french braid quite yet.” you say laughing feeling the matted mess currently on your head. You turn upon hearing him groan, watching as he leans back into the pillow bringing his hands up to hide his face.

“For someone who's a pilot i'm shocked you can't do this.” you say, hand reaching up to salvage your hair.

“Are you judging me?” he says, sitting back up when he sees you struggling to untangle the mess he’d made.

“Maybe a little.” Your breath hitches when you feel his hand grazed against yours. You drop it to the side upon contact allowing his fingers to work gently at removing the knots.

“Are pilots supposed to be good at braiding?” he asks.

“I just assumed if you could weave in and out of the sky you'd be good with your hands.” you laugh as he frees the last of your hair from the prison he'd made. He watches as you effortlessly put your hair back up into tidy braids.

“You make it look so easy,” he says.

“Well practice makes perfect, but look on the brightside, now you have a sure fire pick up line that'll work on all the MILFs youll be dating!” you exclaim turning back to smile at him.

“Malo '' he mutters, pushing your shoulder slightly as you giggle, dramatically falling back onto the bed and pulling the covers up over you. It doesn't take a moment before you're back around him, breathing silently, and fast asleep. He wasn’t far behind you, he never used to sleep well in hotels, or at all really, not after the mission, but something about this place made it easy. He's sure it's nothing to do with the idle hand on his chest or the rhythmic beating of the heart belonging to the person draped over him.