#I’m sorry if this is written super badly I’m tired and just wanna talk about silly stuff

[femmemortes]

Traps I came up with for my SAW AU of my WIP but not a WIP because it’s more of just a thing I write, part 1.

Halo of Death / Halo Trap

So, I’m actually pretty proud of this trap because I felt so clever coming up with this and because I’m a sucker for traps that are connected to the person/are symbolic.

This was the first trap I wrote for the AU and the victim is none other than my beloved oc, Maxine.

The trap itself is a steel ring affixed around the victim’s head, connected at a collar around the neck. Inside of the steel ring is a series of thin metal wiring on motors that are attached to a series of hooks that are placed on select points of the victim’s face. The idea is, once the time runs out, the hooks will retract rapidly and flay the person’s face.

(Maybe an amount of suspended disbelief is required here, I’m not too sure, but we roll.)

In order for the victim to escape they must use two belt sanders that have been placed either side of them to sand off their skin and flesh to uncover the two keys that have been embedded into their arms. Both are used to unlock the trap.

I would go more in-depth for the lore here but this isn’t an OC lore post so… As for the symbolism behind the trap, in short, Maxine experienced a great deal of damage and religious trauma at the hands of the Catholic Church as she was growing up, especially between the ages of 15-18. She is 21 in the AU. This, among other factors, lead her to be destructive to not only herself but also other people and this continues even after she rebukes and leaves the church and no longer practices any faith whatsoever. This is actually an integral part of her character in the “normal universe” as with other oc’s arcs, I just translated them over into the AU.

The main symbolic aspect of this trap is the ring that encircles Maxine’s head while in the trap. I got this idea from the way that saints, angels and other holy figures are depicted in art found in stained glass windows and paintings. Rather the halo being a horizontally placed ring, it is instead a circle behind the head.

Here’s some examples of what I’m talking about along with a very rushed and basic drawing of the general shape of the trap with Maxine in it. The wires and hooks could also be representative of the lines you sometimes see running from the circumference of the halo to it’s centre? But honestly that’s more of a loose connection.

The symbolism just doesn’t end here though. Maxine is pretty self indulgent when it comes to appearance. This mostly comes from the people she socialises with but also because I think there’s something to be said for losing so much all you have left is your flesh and skin, so she puts so much effort into it because in a way it’s all she has left. So then having the threat of that being ripped away from her, literally and figuratively, is pretty symbolic. That and the way she’s also torn others apart, so in order to escape she must do the same to herself concerning the belt sanders.

The belt sanders also play a role, she has to kneel and put her arms in these box like cages where the belt sanders are fixed inside. Kneeling while holding your arms up/open is a pretty common practice in worship. That and also I feel like I could make a comment about this playing into the fact John Kramer does very much in-fact have a god complex? Either way, this entire trap was meant to be a mockery of her and her experiences and a more fucked up twist on, “turn to God, it’ll save your life.”

[m3yme]

—The end of a cycle

Genre: Angst, Comfort, short ff

Pairing: Beomgyu x fm!Reader

Warnings: Toxic ex relationship, hints of abuse.

Synopsis: Somehow you have ended up in a toxic relationship, where endless fights and break-ups seemed to be your destiny. Like an endless cycle that wished to be broken but never could be, until the cafe worker seemed to get involved.

Note: Hi! This is my first ff so I’m sorry if it’s not that well written. I’m not super happy with how it turned out but I thought I’d just post it anyway. This story reminded me of a ex-relationship that seemed to be a endless loop for me. I would always imagine scenarios like this and so I just wrote one down. Hope you don’t find it too badly written!

You can’t help the heavy sigh leaving your lips as you feel a lump form in your chest, making your breath feel heavy as rocks. You’ve were sitting at a cafe with your boyfriend, or rather ex-boyfriend. As a matter of fact he had broken up with you countless of times but every now and then asked you out again. It was an endless cycle , but you couldn’t bare to say no to him, your feelings being way too in deep for any sort of self respect. He sat in front of you shaking his head and yelling words that you were too tired to pay any attention to. You knew it all to well, It was bound to be another breakup today. You look around the cafe to insure not too many people were witnessing your vulnerability. Lucky for you it was almost closing time, which meant that it was pretty much empty. You looked up at the man you loved so much, with a blank expression. Honestly speaking, you had stoped reacting a few breakups ago, too drained to let any sort of reaction show. When he finally ottered the words “i wanna break up” all you could do was lower your gaze as a simple “ok” left your lips. With your head lowered, you held ur breath until you could hear the bell from the door ring, signaling that he had left. Finally you let out a heavy breath. You sat there quietly for a few minutes until you could hear a cup being placed on your table. You look up to see a tall browned hair boy wearing a brown apron and a mask towering over your table. “Sorry, I didn’t order this” you quickly say thinking that the worker had given you somebody else’s order by mistake. He shook his head as to gesture that it wasn’t a mistake. “You can’t keep going back you know, it’s not good for you” he said with a low pitched voiced, raspy probably from talking to customers all day. You were about to question how he would know your routine but soon realized that this cafe was your exes favorite place to break up. Looking quickly at the boy you noticed his name tag “Beomgyu”. All you could do was sit quietly and let the tears run down your checks. Feeling embarrassed as even strangers seemed to see how pathetic you were. The tall boy sighed and left a handkerchief on the table before walking away.

Three weeks has passed, and Beomgyu had everyday anticipated to see you. He didn’t know why but he felt anxious, not knowing if you would enter the cafe again with your good for nothing boyfriend or not. He really couldn’t wrap his head around why you were willingly hurting yourself in that way. As if on cue, the bells of the cafe doors ring and you walk in. Beomgyu almost felt relieved until he saw the angry man that followed behind you. Sitting down at your usual table Beomgyu tracked your features scared that your old routine was about to be displayed again. While watching you he couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under your eyes and how pale your face looked. Despite your tired state he couldn’t help to feel mesmerized by your looks. You on the other hand payed little to no attention to your surroundings. Your eyes felt heavy reminding you of the countless of sleepless nights, staying up to hear your boyfriend scream at you through the phone about how imperfect and stupid you were. Nothing was new as the same scene played out again. Beomgyu ccouldn’t help himself from approaching a nearby table pretending to wipe it down in order for him to hear your very one sided conversation. “You know, if you could just be more quiet and behave better maybe I wouldn’t have to break up with you so many times.” Your boyfriend said with a stern voice. In order not to break down in tears your eyes traveled around the cafe, as if to find something that would take your mind off of the situation. They quickly stopped as you meet the gaze of the browned haired waiter. He gave you a sympathetic look almost snapping you out of the spell of your ex. It gave you a little courage as you turned to face the man in front of you. “Listen, I’ve had it with this draining relationship. Can’t you see that I’m not getting any sleep cause I have to listen to you complain all night about how bad I am. I already know about the girl you’re texting but I choose to stay quiet because I fucking love you. Please stop this back and forth game and just break up with me for good I really can’t take-“ you didnt get to finish your sentence as you felt your check go numb. Had he really just slapped you? Although your relationship was very toxic, violence was never used before. Before you had any time to react you heard a familiar voice speak. “Hey, it’s time for you to leave now or I’m calling security.” This time his voice sounded stern and angry compared to his previous southing one. Your ex decided to stand up muttering a quick “whatever” before walking out the door.

Beomgyu turned to face you.

“Come on, is it that hard for you to see how this man is actually hurting you? How many bruises and scars is it gonna take?? I really don’t understand why you can’t just fucking snap out of it already? I mean-“

He stopped his rant as he noticed the tears falling down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way, I just don’t like seeing someone getting used that way” he quicky said.

It stayed quiet for a few minutes as you noticed Beomgyu sitting down facing you.

“What you’re saying is true it’s just-“ you start not really knowing how to continue. You look up at the Brunette that is sitting in front of you anxiously waiting for what you would say next.

“He’s my first love” you whisper almost hopping that he wouldn’t catch it.

Beomgyu’s eyes soften. “Hey listen, I understand it is hard but please for the sake of yourself don’t continue, I mean look what he just did. Imagine how much more could happen to you.” He placed his hand on yours, which somehow soothed you. All you can do is nod your head, as it felt like all your problems were temporarily solved.

The rest of the evening you spent at the cafe as Beomgyu had asked you to wait for his shift to be finished. You didn’t know why but you couldn’t keep your eyes off the boy as he continued to work. A state of confusion but also relief filled you, as you thought about your situation. The weird thing being how a cafe worker seemed to have been able to finally break the shambles of your broken relationship. You found comfort in him. Maybe this was due to the fact that he was the complete opposite of your ex. Not only was he calm in his demeanor, but every thing he did he seemed to do with grace. While you were looking at him your eyes met for a brief second before he turned them back to the counter he was wiping. “How did you even fall for him in the first place” he asked breaking the silence. You thought for a minute about how to answer him, all while he stopped wiping and patiently waited for an answer. “To be honest I don’t know, I think I just felt happy in the beginning when we were both in love and caring. But somewhere along the line that changed I guess.” You say thinking back about the first dates you two shared. A sad smile plastered your face. “I guess I was too much of a wimp to leave him after thing s changed.” You added. “Loving someone with all you’ve got doesn’t make you a wimp, in fact I think it makes you really strong. I mean it couldn’t be easy to love someone so much that you’re willing to hurt yourself in the process.” Beomgyu said with a fierce look in his eyes, as if he was fighting to get the meanings of his words across. You were left a little stunned, mostly at how he again had known exactly what to say to make you feel better. It felt good. “Thank you Beomgyu” you said with a soft smile on your face. Beomgyu felt butterflies in his stomach when he saw your smile. All he wanted to do was to protect you from any harm in the future and to be by your side. You had a similar feeling of comfort in him, that you felt over time would be the softness your life needed.

[yellowcabdriver]

love language

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Javier wants to love you the right way.

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

Warning: none

A/N: this was written in like 20 minutes before I went to sleep so sorry in advance for mistakes 🥲 Also, a kiss on a head for those who guesses Javier’s love language I tried to force in here 🥰🤣

“What form of love language do you prefer?”

You raised your head from the paperwork you had been filling out for what seems like an eternity.

“What?”

Elena shook some heavy-looking glossy magazine in her hand.

“There’s a test in here. Wanna find out?”

You went back to filing the report and shrugged your shoulders.

“How many love languages are there anyway?”

“Umm…” Elena quickly flipped through a few pages. “Five.”

Usually, you were not the one to indulge in magazines, especially not at work but… it had been a long day at the embassy. Very long. You spent the first part of the day typing out reports for Noonan, then you had to go to the archive and sew together some old documents in a badly lit backroom in the company of, you were sure of it, a ghost of someone who died in that backroom choking on an ungodly amount of dust. Your back was aching, high heels required by the dress code were straight up slaughtering your feet one step at a time. And also, you were bored out of your mind.

“Wow, okay.” You sighed and plopped down on a chair. “Sure, let’s see. I needed a break anyway.”

With a victorious shriek, Elena started reading out questions and marking the answers down on the pages with a pencil that desperately needed to be sharpened.

“Okay, you got…” her lips inaudibly moved as she was counting the results. “You got words of affirmation.”

“Oh, bullshit!” You threw your head back in sardonic laughter and stretched out your legs. “I don’t enjoy being complemented at all, I always get super uncomfortable!”

Elena shrugged her shoulders as she was erasing her pencil notes from the magazine.

“Maybe you do, somewhere deep down.”

“Nope, not a chance,” you snickered. “Your magazine is full of lies.”

“Hey!” Jokingly offended, Elena hugged the magazine to her chest. “It’s my only entertainment in this lifeless pile of paper!”

“What did you get then?” You asked, propping your cheek with your palm making you sound all muffled.

“Acts of service.”

“Well then, I’ll tell David to serve you up real nice.”

An enemy missile in the form of a crumpled piece of paper landed on your table.

“Oh screw you!”

“What’s the hustle?”

Elena and you immediately straightened up at the voice of a visitor who, upon further inspection, turned out to be your boyfriend, Javier.

“It’s just me, not Noonan,” he raised his palms slowly walking to your table as you two relaxed into your previous positions. Javier sat down at the edge of your table next to your chair and leaned down to kiss you on the forehead, this was his way of saying hello.

“Are you ready to go home?” He asked. Boy, were you ever.

“Of course, I am. So tired,” you complained suppressing a yawn. Javier smiled, soothingly stroking your hand.

“Let’s just go home, they don’t even pay us any overtime anyway,” Elena muttered, shooting a resentful stare at the piles of documents in front of her.

“By the way,” Javier turned to look at Elena. “David is downstairs, I think you’re gonna catch up.”

These words were enough for Elena to throw away her magazine, which honour she was just defending by violating a Geneva Convention of friendship, and bolt out of office without further ado. You and Javier looked at each other in amusement and burst into laughter at the same time.

“We should also go.”

“Yep, let’s go home.”

Nominally, “home” was Javier’s apartment, it was closer to the office and was overall much nicer than your place. Driving down the familiar street—the next turn after that yellow house, you were thinking, is home—Javier put his hand on your lap and asked you:

“Why were you arguing with Elena? Did she do something to you?”

“Oh, she did, she Inflicted the pain of knowing the content of a beauty magazine,” you half-heartedly complained, enjoying the warmth of Javier’s large hand on your thigh. Javier grinned at your remark.

“That harsh, huh?”

“We were just bored and decided to take a dumb test from the magazine.”

Javier chuckled as he quickly glanced at you, his yellow aviators catching a glimpse of the setting sun.

“About what?”

“Something about love language.”

“And what about it?”

“Well, found out that my love language is apparently words of affirmation.”

The car slowly stopped in the driveway as you reached Javier’s apartment building.

“Really?” He smiled at you, kissing the back of your hand. You almost melted at the gesture of his casual affection.

“Yes, who would’ve thought, right?”

Javier laughed again, exiting the car and jogging to your side to open the door for you. You jumped down and placed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth as a thank you.

“So it means you need to hear words of affirmation every day? Like your Cleo?” Javier asked, locking the car doors and turning slightly to look at you with a smile. You snorted. “Your Cleo” was a plant sitting comfortably on a windowsill of your office. She was a dying little thing until you saved her from being literally abused in the dark hallway of the embassy. Once you got her into a well-lit room and started watering her properly with actual water and not residue 3-in-1 coffee, Cleo turned into a stunning blooming beauty. You did talk to her, mostly paying her compliments—yes, weird, but you read somewhere that plants responded to positive affirmation. Javier, of course, didn’t believe any of that but for you, and he highlighted that specifically, he would greet Cleo every now and then when he entered your and Elena’s office.

“I am not like Cleo!” You huffed, making Javier smile as he hugged you by your waist and you two started walking towards his apartment. “But I believe everyone flourishes under kind words, don’t you think?”

Javier opened the door to his place and let you enter first.

“That’s a fair point, hermosa.”

The evening went by as it usually did: you two ate a dinner that Javier quickly put together—you maybe were a better cook but a slow one, for sure. Then you went to put Javier’s clothes into a washing machine, a dreadful loud thing that was tumbling around so hard you were afraid it would explode, while Javier washed the dishes. Finally, you two settled on the coach to watch some classic evening telenovelas because nothing relaxes a person more than an intricate plot of a tv show where somehow everyone ends up being everyone’s relative.

You were very engulfed in an episode—main character shot a man who turned out to be her biological father,—when Javier quietly asked:

“Am I saying enough compliments to you?”

“What?” You let out an involuntary laughter but as you turned to look at Javier, he didn’t seem to be joking.

“You said your preferred love language is words of affirmation and I’m… cariño, you know I’m not good with words,” Javier let out a bitter chuckle rubbing his temple—a nervous habit. “Am I showing you enough love?”

Oh.

Oh.

That you didn’t expect.

You turned the volume down and quickly climbed on Javi’s lap. He uncomfortably glanced up at the ceiling with a vulnerability you never saw him exude before. You could see something you would believe was more of your thing—an insecurity of being not enough.

“Javi, please, look at me,” you took his face in your hands and he immediately left a quick kiss on your palm, like a reflex.

God, that man was gonna be the death of you.

“Javi, my love, I never said anything about my preferences, it was just a dumb magazine. And besides, I don’t need to hear compliments, you know I can’t even take them well!” you said causing Javier knowingly to raise his eyebrows in agreement. Your left hand found its way to the back of his head and into his soft curls making Javier groan quietly.

“I love you so much and I love your ways of showing affection. I feel loved, if anything I feel adored.” You let your right index finger trace his aquiline nose and Javier closed his eyes at your tender touch. You began to press soft kisses all over his face.

“You love me so well, Javier Peña. You are so caring, so wonderful, so handsome, and sooooo sexy…” you exhaled as your kisses reached his jaw and you felt him smile. “I love you, Javi. So so much.”

Javier opened his eyes and pulled you in for a proper kiss.

“I love you, too, mi corazon,” his hands gently squeezing your thighs.

As this gesture pressed you closer, you felt the tightness in his jeans. Jokingly widening your eyes you glanced down, between your bodies, as Javier offered you a shy boyish grin.

“Ohh, but I see that someone else’s love language is definitely words of affirmation.”

Javier’s hands slid under your shirt and tightened around your waist as he began to leave open-mouthed kisses on your neck prompting you to let out a shamelessly loud moan.

“Oh yeah, I guess I forgot to mention that,” he softly said, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “I really love to hear your praise, mi amor.”

[fallingappleshurt]

Project Pink

Sorry Y’all this one got away from me again and I wrote it while tired, again. Anyways here is some badly written shit and have a good period of existence in the universe!

Oh god my brain is going brrrrrrrr

Techno and Wilbur.

It had always been Techno and Wilbur Soode against the world.

Some would make jokes about how it was because they were identical twins, they got ridiculous questions like ‘If I pinch him will you feel it?’ or ‘Can you guys mentally speak- like through your minds?’ They would roll their eyes and say no, sometimes they’d joke around acting like they could read each other's mind or something stupid but it was rare.

They went through multiple foster homes, refusing to be separated from each other, if they ever were they’d find a way back to the other, because it was them against the world.

Then they got placed with Phil Wingraft.

He was different.

They had been through a few foster homes, some were good, some were okay, and one was really bad but Phil was different.

He treated them like they were normal, he was gentle but not patronizing or condescending, he would joke around with them but also became a person they could trust.

He took the time to learn about their interests, he got Wilbur a guitar and took Techno to the library every week. He took the time to recognize the difference between Wilbur’s crazy fluffy hair and Techno more tame but still wavy curls. Wilbur was taller then Techno by half a head but from a distance it was hard to tell. They both had the same shaped face and the same cinnamon colored eyes, the main difference was Techno had glasses.

They stayed with Phil for a year before they were officially adopted and became a family. A two years later he asked them how they would feel if he started fostering another kid, named Tommy.

“I’d be okay with that,” Techno said, shrugging, he hadn’t really processed it but he’d go along with it. Wilbur agreed too, nodding along, it seemed like it would make Phil happy so why not?

“That’s great, it’ll take a few days for the paperwork to go through, then he’ll be with us!” Phil was grinning, this was making Phil happy so this could make Wilbur happy.

Later they were in their room when Techno kicked the top bunk Wilbur was laying on.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, rolling his head halfway off the bed, trying to look at his brother.

“What?” Wilbur asked, looking over the railing.

“Don’t be like that, I know that look, you look like you just ate a suspicious lemonhead,”

“I don’t have a look like that!”

“Stop avoiding the question!” His face softened, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just worried about the new kid, Tommy, I-I don’t know, it just makes me worried, what if it changes things?”

Techno was quiet, he bit his lip.

“I get that, it makes sense but I don’t think anything bad will happen. Phil is great and I don’t think he would push us away, he’s not like that. Who knows, maybe we can have a little brother,”

Wilbur huffed out a small laugh, smiling softly, “Yeah, a little brother, that would be nice.”

Techno sighed contently, shifting back onto his bed. They laid in silence for a moment when Wilbur laughed.

“I mean, it’ll be nice for you, I already have one.”

“Two minutes Wilbur! Two minutes!”

Tommy joined them 4 days later, a little blonde dweeb with baby blue eyes. He was loud, annoying, and hyper. He would talk loudly when Techno was trying to do homework, he untuned Wilbur’s guitar, he said it was an accident but they weren’t really sure, and was overall like a bull in a china shop.

Techno was gonna pull his own hair out, Wilbur had come very close to locking him out of the apartment, they were both going to kill him.

It took them two weeks to fall in change completely.

It started when Tommy asked Techno for some help in his homework, it actually shocked Techno, the kid who was so loud and proud of his accomplishments shyly asking if Techno could help him with his math work was interesting, to say the least.

Techno almost said no, almost teased him, ‘What? The Great TommyInnit needs help? I thought you knew everything!’

Almost.

Tommy looked different, fingers nervously tapping on the packet, trying not to crickle it, eyes darting around, even his voice was shaky.

It reminded Techno when he’d ask an old foster parent for help, only they’d turn him away, telling him to figure it out, that they were too busy.

He didn’t want to be like that.

“Sure, what are you learning?” He pushed some of his papers aside, making room for Tommy’s. Tommy grabbed a chair and sat next to him.

“Algebra,” He said, frowning, “I don’t get it- it’s just so weird,” He put his chin in his hands.

“Don’t worry, Algebra is super confusing-”

“Yeah right, you get everything, you’re really smart!”

“You’re smart too,” Techno offered, not sure what to say.

“Then name a time I’ve been smart!”

Techno short circuited.

“See!” Tommy gestured wildly.

“Tommy I’ve known you for two weeks, I’m sure you’ve done plenty of-”

Tommy groaned, “Nevermind, forget it-” He slid off the chair only for Techno to reach over and grab his arm.

“No, I’m sorry, just let me help,”

Tommy made a face but sat back down, “Fine.”

It had been 2 hours.

“This is useless! I’ll never get it!” Tommy stuck his hands in his hair.

“Just try this last problem, you’re so close!”

“No! I’ll just mess it up again!”

“You don’t know that, just try again!”

Reluctantly, Tommy picked his pencil back up and started on the equation. Techno turned back to his paper, finishing up a definition sheet, Tommy’s mumbles drifting in the background.

“Then add the two to get 16?” He looked up at Techno, who closed his textbook and looked over Tommy’s worksheet, covered in half erased scribbles, doodles, and pencil shavings.

“That’s right,” He grinned, reading over Tommy’s work again, “You did it,”

“Wait seriously? I got it right?”

“Yeah!”

“Yes! I did it!” Tommy pumped a fist in the air, cheering. “Thanks Techno!”

“Anytime nerd,”

Wilbur had been messing around with his guitar, sitting on his bunk, scribbling down music notes on a scrap of paper. He’d write a few phrases down and sing them softly to himself, strumming a few chords.

Scowling, he erased half the page, grumbling to himself; “It doesn’t sound right, why can’t I get it-”

“I thought it sounded nice,” Someone said from the bunk beneath him. Wilbur jumped, yelping, he hit his head on the ceiling. He leaned over the railing to see Tommy sitting on Techno’s bunk, limbs tangled around the latter.

“What are you doing? I thought you were out with Techno and Phil!” Wilbur said, sounding harsher and more shrill then he meant to, Tommy shrugged, “I didn’t want to go to the library today.”

“Wish I knew that beforehand,” He grumbled, going back to his music sheet.

“You seem mad,” Tommy observed, twisting his arm around the metal.

“Yeah I’m mad,”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I can’t get these stupid lyrics to sound right and you just scared the shit- I mean crap- out of me.”

Tommy cackled, “I’m telling Phil you swore!”

“Shut up,” Wilbur grumbled, gripping his pencil tighter. Tommy tipped his head to the side, “I don’t get why you’re angry, those lyrics sounded really nice.”

Wilbur paused, “You think so?”

“Yeah! It was really cool!” Tommy said, starting to come up the latter, he climbed onto the bed with Wilbur, “I liked it a lot!”

Wilbur smiled softly, “Thanks,”

“Can you play it again?”

“Oh, uh, sure,” Wilbur sat up straighter, putting the guitar in a better position , “I don’t remember all the lyrics though,”

He started playing, slowly his nerves of playing in front of someone else started to slip away as he fell into the rhythm and flow of the music. He looked up briefly a few times seeing Tommy, smiling widely, eyes filled with admiration. He finished the song and looked at Tommy, who immediately leaned forwards.

“That was so good! Write it down so you don’t forget! Wilbur that was epic!”

“Really?”

“Definitely!” Tommy leaned back, then quietly added, “And I’m sorry I messed up your guitar the other week, it wasn’t on purpose,” He trailed off.

Wilbur shrugged, “It’s fine, you didn’t do any real damage, just messed up the tuning,”

“I was messing with it cause I wanna learn how to play, could you maybe show me sometime?”

“Maybe, I’m still considered an amateur on most standards,”

“Seriously?!”

Tommy went to the same school as them, he was in the sixth grade while Techno and Wilbur were in 8th, so they saw each other in the halls every once and awhile. The one thing Tommy hadn’t been able to learn, despite the fact he had learned algebra, basketball, and some of the guitar, was how to tell Techno and Wilbur apart when they weren’t standing directly next to each other.

They had tried everything, Tommy would try to memorize the different clothes they wore each morning, the small differences in their hair, how they walked or moved around but nothing worked.

One day when they were in the car on the way home from school, Tommy was pouting, or ‘stewing’, as Phil would say. He barely talked the whole ride home.

“Alright I’ll bite,” Wilbur said, turning around in the front seat, “What’s wrong?”

Tommy frowned at him, “You both completely ignored me all day! I tried to get your attention so many times!”

Techno raised an eyebrow, “I never once heard you call my name,”

“Me either,” Wilbur confirmed, Tommy looked skeptical.

“How do I know that you guys aren’t messing with me?”

“He’s got you guys there,” Phil said from the driver's seat.

“We weren’t ignoring him! I swear, you must have gotten us mixed up again!” Wilbur insisted, waving his hand.

Tommy groaned, “Why is it so hard to tell you guys apart! Hey, could you just make it easier and not be identical twins?”

Phil cackled in the front, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“It-It doesn’t work like that Tommy,” Techno snorted, half covering his mouth with his hand.

“Oh come on! Just try it!”

Tommy was trying, he really was, but it was so hard to tell them apart. He knew Wilbur’s hair was crazier and he was Taller then Techno and that Techno had glasses but it didn’t help at all.

He’d go to ask Techno for help with homework only to find Wilbur, who also didn’t know jackshit about algerbra, or if he wanted to do something stupid he’d end up accidentally telling his plan to Techno who would immediately veto the idea.

After awhile he just decided to just try and slow down and see if one of the clones had glasses or not and that worked for him, sort of.

A few months later and they officially adopted Tommy into the family, he was an official Wingraft.

They went out and celebrated, laughing and making stupid jokes, it was nice. Then the next day Techno went to the store by himself, taking some of the money he had saved up from chores and searched a bottle of pink hair dye.

Picking out a color was surprisingly difficult, there were so many choices, taffy, bubblegum, creamy, carnation, but he eventually decided on ‘Rose Pink’. He bought a bottle then hid it under his bed, he needed to wait for the right time to do it because the dye had to sit for at least 30 minutes before he could rinse it out.

Phil was working late on Wednesday and Wilbur was going to see a movie with friends after school so he just had to lock Tommy out of the bathroom for like 45 minutes, which he would have no problem doing, and everything would be set.

The day rolled around and he found out that dying your hair is easier said then done, so much easier.

Techno set down so many paper towels in hopes to catch anything that might drip, then there was the process of making sure he got it all and wearing the plastic gloves made everything much harder to handle but eventually he was able to get the dye in place.

He set a timer on his phone then pulled out a book, hoping Tommy wouldn’t try to bust down the door, it didn’t lock but Techno had taken a rubber band from the door handle and wrapped it around the facut to try and give some semblance of a lock. All he had to do was wait.

Tommy was sitting on the couch watching TV when Phil arrived home, Wilbur in tow.

“Hey Tommy, how was your day?”

“Pretty good, nothing really interesting happened though,” He responded, “But Techno has been in the bathroom for like an hour,”

Wilbur raised an eyebrow and Phil asked, “Is he okay?”

“I guess so, I heard the shower running just a minute ago,”

Phil walked over to the bathroom door and knocked, “Tech? You okay in there?”

Tommy heard the door swing open and Techno say, “Yeah I’m fine,” Phil didn’t say anything but Wilbur started laughing loudly, throwing his head back. Tommy turned around on the couch and saw Techno standing there, towel around his shoulders to stop water from dripping onto his shirt, hair the brightest shade of pink Tommy had ever seen.

He froze, much like Phil did, before he broke out into a grin, then a laugh, “Techno what-”

“Now you should be able to tell us apart,”

[nnatsume]

School projects are super tiring… I just wanna talk abt how passionate I’m about the topic and judged on my knowledge and not because someone said i have the wrong size of letters or the distance between paragraphs QwQ

-very tired 👻

so they care more about the visual of it..? that's.. really nasty. i'm sorry ghostie. :( it really sucks. but it's hard to change. people will always pick on the surface. projects are normally somewhat dependent on visual.. patpat

i assume this project is written by hand (since distance between paragraphs)? you could maybe try practicing your calligraphy to fix the issue, if it's possible? i used to have even uglier handwriting than now and struggled really badly with cursive in primary (cursive was obligatory in my country), but it usually helps to take a little paper and write some pangrams in pretty writing to straighten it up again.

or if not, just print it out!! if it's a project you have to put on a plaque, make the writing big and just. stick it on, decorate a bit. that's how my bestie worked around writing because nobody could read his chicken scratches either.

i'm sure you can do it, though! whatever you decide. if you haven't done it already. you seem like a very passionate and knowledgable person, yesyes, just do your best <3

[tsuna-sora]

Hi, yes hello. Good day all my gender and none gender darlings <3 This is gonna be a long winded salt post about the current state of mlb and the fandom and if that’s not for you feel free to skip this post as you please dear. I want your comfort as a priority and you do you. And for people who disagree with me I’ll kindly ask you not to engage on this post please keep scrolling and don’t let me have any bearings on your day. I will not interact to dispute this post cause I’m kinda tired of stuff if that’s alright with you. Love you. OKAY. *breaths* As someone who when it comes to Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction only goes into the Adrienette tag and never got the urge to see other ships in fics ever since the start of this show till now, I can safely say that I am indeed an Adrienette shipper.... yah know EXCEPT FOR CURRENT CANON. Because, this may shock everyone who likes this ship, the relationship they have in fanfiction and canon is not the same thing anymore. This series canon writing has been atrocious since the start of S3 (if not the middle of S2 where I could notice things were in the start of going in a weird /later confirmed bad/ direction)

So this is just a thing I wanted to say, hey like could y'all kindly not deliberately go into tags of your notp’s and harass shippers in their own tags/blogs? Cause that’s like, not raaad my dude. \(uwu)/ And tag stuff accordingly if you disagree? Please and thank you for being an amazing human being? And be polite if you wanna debate them? And if your not sure the poster is open to it please first ask/check with them for consent for that debate? :3c

Also can we like not dismiss someone’s extremely valid points and logical points that they wrote/pointed out as flaws and/or good points and well written parts just because *le gasp* they ship Adrienette or Lukanette and/or Adrigami instead of what you ship or is endgame in canon! Blasphemy!

Okay now for the serious note, Marinette is always punished for shit she didn’t do to the point her embarrassment and distress in Truth made me cry and have an attack that later made me finally quit the show. (if you want to see that distress post it’s here) One of my bff’s who writes Adrienette fics on AO3 also hates the writing and destruction of characters in this entire show at this point and agrees that the writing for the characters has been shit, Marinette is both a great person and then suddenly a freak for plot reasons, Adrien is a saint except he literally is not and him not learning lessons is the worst representation and image for young boys ever, every single character has been distorted to fit plot instead of providing it, but they keep watching for lore for their fic and have been explaining to me what happened since then. So yes I know about Lies through them and osmosis of bloggers I follow. And some of them holy molly are Lukanette or Adrigami and even Marigami blogs because that doesn’t matter to me one fucking bit because they’re freakin’ darlings of people who tag stuff properly and aren’t rude to others or have ever been rude to me and the points they make are valid. Just as I also follow a lot of dedicated Adrienette only blogs and in fact what all of these have in common is that when I interact with them or ask stuff they all have been nothing but fluffy bunnies I wanna kidnap into my home.

Just as some other people have also pointed all these things out even tho they are also Adrienette shippers.

( Tipo EU, e outras pessoas muito giras que só shipam Adrienette )

Who have been silenced by the other majority. If you don’t agree with me that’s FINE. That’s why I put that first part of the post informing you that if you read this till this point I don’t want to debate out my experience of Miraculous if it doesn’t mirror yours. And you don’t see the same things I did. That’s okay my dude. :c

IT’S FINE I LOVE YOU ANYWAY AND I WANT YOU HAPPY.

MY POINT IS *deep breaths* someone being a Lukanette shipper saying that Truth is a bad episode and presenting reasons outside their ship for it is valid. An Adrigami shipper pointing out that Lies is badly written and posting logical points that have nothing to do with the ship is valid.

You know what’s not valid?

Dismissing someone’s argument cause you went into their blog and noticed they shipped a certain ship even tho their debate/post had no ships involved as points of argument to begin with and then decided to harass/dismiss them and their post directly at them.

Guys we need to be kinder to each other. We need to respect each other. We need to understand that some people only like the shipping in a show. Some people only like to discuss writing of shows. Some people like to salt, others not at all. Some post things as an outlet not wanting different interaction/debate, others do want people to discuss and debate. ALL OF THIS IS GREAT AND FINE. BUT WE NEED TO RESPECT AND BE KIND TO EACH OTHER.

I have not been a perfect example of this and I am a mature person who can admit this. So if I unintentionally did this to you? I’m sorry. I will hear the person speaking to me and check myself and correct my behavior for next time. And so can you because I believe you are a good person.

I had proof of this very recently where me and someone else had a misunderstanding within a post and we ended up talking and we cleared up stuff. Turns out that person did not want to make me feel bad at all. We just had a case of me being a none English speaker and not being able to make my entire point super cohesive and them getting a wrong idea and it snowballing from there.

Which is also something I wanna point out. Please don’t forget that some people aren’t native English speakers and may not be able to explain themselves fully to you or cohesive enough. Be patient and before you think they are debating something without pointing out this thing or x forgot to point out something in their post ask them about it politely if they have an opinion on it or if maybe they forgot to mention? Jesus where am I going with this post at this point. Okay what I want everyone to take away from this is that we shouldn’t be fighting each other. We shouldn’t be dismissing and harassing each other. You know what we should be doing? Beating up Thomas Austruc and his writing team with sticks and DEMANDING BETTER WRITING FOR THIS SHOW AND ALL OUR SHIPS BE THEY CANON OR NOT ALL OF US TOGETHER---- Okay pitch fork revolution idea aside I just wanted to stop people from using a ship as a means to hurt each other. We all liked or still like MLB and I want us to be above this stuff. I believe in us cause I’m a stupid shounen protag whose hopes die last when it comes to people. I love you all okay? I seriously do. I’ve had a lot of fun when it comes to the fandom of MLB. I love seeing people post cute art of my ship. I love seeing cute art of Lukanette, I love seeing cute art of Adrigami and Nino and Alya, and Nino or Adrien and JuleRose. I love the gifs, the salt, the cute content, the mostly lore debated stuff etc. I LOVE IT ALL. And I’m not giving up on us. And I bet 100% that you aren’t either you stupidly beautiful human being. *kisses your cheek with your consent* This has been again a very rare self post. And I bid you all goodnight.

[itwillbeall-dwight]

christmas (calm) spirit

Meg Thomas & Dwight Fairfield & Claudette Morel & Jake Park; implied/referenced dwake + megdette; christmas; post canon; 1455 words

a/n: A SUPER LATE SECRET SANTA GIFT FOR THE WONDERFUL AND AMAZING @dwhatsup​ !!!!!! please forgive me for dragging my heels on this one jackie, but hey, happy new year, right? hope this will do you well!

let it be known they’re all wearing their christmas cosmetics but i was not willing to write about jake’s bare feet, i’m not strong enough for that.

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror/kofi in the reblogs!

Preview: It had been months since the fog had dissipated, and life had tried to return to normal, and even now some wounds had still not fully closed - both literally and metaphorically. The littlest noises could startle, sounds of snapping twigs and crunching leaves that had once given Jake comfort digging a pit in his stomach with a 0-to-60 response, making the cold winter in the cabin that he had once looked forward to and welcomed feel all too off for him to enjoy, the snow reminding him too much of the way crawling in the snow of the Ormond resort made him feel - bleeding from his back, cold and alone as he dug his nails into the dirt. In short, not good. ...So when a letter showed up at his doorstep that invited him back tot he city, the paper written on in a familiar, nervous chicken scratch, he did what was once unthinkable - he packed a bag, and waited at the bus stop to return to the city.

The snow sat light and fluffy on the windowsill outside, untouched and undisturbed, unlike the snow that had turned to ice and sludge on the street outside, or the very same snow that stuck under boots and melted on the doormats of cozy, lively apartments. More snow fell in front of the window, too, dancing down from a dark sky and mingling among the lights of the city, festive or not. The night was alive with something magical, and it was absolutely electric - much different to the holidays he’d been used to, up until now. Nowhere near as alone, nor as cold.

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts, sitting up straight with a tenseness of surprise in his back as he pressed it against the chair he’d brought to the window. Tired eyes looked up to the kind face that smiled down at him.

“I thought you like some cocoa,” Claudette gave him one of the mugs she held, one adorned with festive racoons (had she done that on purpose?), before pulling up a chair from the nearby table to sit with him. “You doing OK, Jake?”

He nursed the mug in his lap, feeling the warmth from it and the way the heat floated up and hit his face, swallowing before nodding. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good.”

The botanist crossed one leg over the other, watching as he looked back to the window, following his gaze to the falling snow, and the sparse streets below them on the cold December evening. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Jake hummed, taking a slow drink from the mug, using it to gesture to the window as he pulled it away from his mouth. “S’peaceful. Fluffy.”

“Right.”

“If it wasn’t cold as hell, I’d probably just lay there.”

She laughed, smoothing down one side of her skirt, meeting his eyes as she looked up to him, a somewhat knowing smile on her face. “You say this like you happen to have some experience, lying in the snow.”

He paused, shrugging his shoulders, speaking over his mug before he took another slow drink. “You could say that, yeah.”

It had been months since the fog had dissipated, and life had tried to return to normal, and even now some wounds had still not fully closed - both literally and metaphorically. The littlest noises could startle, sounds of snapping twigs and crunching leaves that had once given Jake comfort digging a pit in his stomach with a 0-to-60 response, making the cold winter in the cabin that he had once looked forward to and welcomed feel all too off for him to enjoy, the snow reminding him too much of the way crawling in the snow of the Ormond resort made him feel - bleeding from his back, cold and alone as he dug his nails into the dirt. In short, not good. ...So when a letter showed up at his doorstep that invited him back tot he city, the paper written on in a familiar, nervous chicken scratch, he did what was once unthinkable - he packed a bag, and waited at the bus stop to return to the city.

He and Claudette carried on talking by the window, their quiet pleasantries contrasted with the commotion one room over, cries of despair and celebration mixing and growing in volume, though not to the point where it could be ignored. That was until the two of them had to pause, as a loud “Yeah, suck it!” rang from the room with the door wide open (followed by a quiet clatter and panicked whispers). The two of them looked at one another, exchanging a small smile, and a silent agreement to check inside.

Claudette poked her head around the doorway, now empty mug still in hand. “What on earth are you two doing?”

Sitting on the floor behind the coffee table, both Meg and Dwight looked up - the former looking stunning still in her party attire from her short college gathering (“Of course I’d bail those losers to come hang with you guys!” she’d said as she came through the door and made herself more than at home.), and the latter looking… very unique, still wearing the ef costume given to him as compulsory work uniform for the holiday season, too tired to take it off before his friends arrived at his apartment. Meg looked up sheepishly, shrugging her shoulders up to her ears, damp end of the blanket draped over her shoulders still in hand as it hovered over the suspicious stain on the carpet. “Uh… happy accident?”

“...Do you need towels?

“I.. yeah. Yes, please.” She used the couch she was leaning on to push herself to her feet, picking up the knocked over mug and taking a small jump over the cocoa stain before she jogged out of the door, sidestepping Jake as he moved to let the girls pass, daring to shoot him a knowing look he didn’t see as he came in.

The survivalist took a seat on the sofa in front of where Meg once was, watching as Dwight sighed and took off the elves hat, placing it on his lap. “Losing?”

“Badly. How do you get this good at racers?” Dwight gestured an exasperated open palm to the TV, the results screen on full display - guest account in first, home console in sixth.

“It’s Meg. That should be enough of an answer.”

“...Right. She runs on competitiveness and spite. Almost forgot.”

Jake hummed a chuckle, which the former leader (it was still so weird to call him former, even now - after all, he’d brought them all together again, didn’t he?) joined in with. There was a moment of silence in which Jake looked at his hands, before looking up to see the eyes staring back at him. “...What?”

“S-sorry, just… it’s nice to see you so… relaxed. You’re smiling. That’s nice.” Dwight paused, seeming to slowly take in what he had said, before tensing and tripping over himself in a correction. “Not that- you don’t look nice normally, I just think that-”

“Dwight.”

“Y-yeah?”

“You’re fine.”

The blatant reassurance was something he was used to from jake, and welcomed, almost, as it was enough to get him to relax his shoulders and swallow a nervous loud, though the redness in his face remained as he looked down, playing with the joysticks of the controller in his lap. “Thanks for, uh, coming, by the way.”

Jake blinked. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I-I, well… maybe? You haven’t gotten alone time in… a while. A long while, actually.”

He tilted his head, analysing the focus on Dwight’s face for a moment, the way his brows seemed to furrow at the task he’d seemed to make up to keep himself occupied. “Yeah, I suppose. I think I realised I… didn’t like it as much as I thought it did.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Yeah. Sometimes you miss the things you don’t know you had.”

Dwight stopped, slowly looking up again to watch the way Jake smiled again, slight and self-aware, enough to make him smile back and let out a breathy laugh of relief before he ran his hands over the controller again. He paused once more, a wave of realisation washing over his face, eyes tracing over to the second controller Meg had left on the coffee table. “Hey, wanna play?”

“What?” He followed the gaze to the table. “No, I can’t-”

“I-I’m sure Meg won’t mind. Come on, you can’t kick my ass any worse than she didn’t, right?”

Jake swallowed, hesitating for a moment as he glanced back to the soft and hopeful look the other man, his friend, gave him, before looking back to the controller. After a few more moments of silence, he reached forward, trying not to pay attention to the subtle (or not so subtle) celebration in his peripherals.

They played the game together, even getting somewhat competitive, though to levels nowhere close to their athlete friend, who, at some point, returned with damp towels and a lipstick mark on her cheek that she ‘forgot’ to wipe away. As she got down on her knees to clean the mess on the carpet, Claudette gently took a seat on the armrest beside Jake, commentating as the two concentrated, and soon all four of them exchanged jokes and laughs between one another, as, finally, Dwight found his victory to great personal triumph, and a cheer rang throughout the room. All the while, the snow continued to fall outside, sitting undisturbed by the windowsill.

Fog and mist slowly rolled in with the evening chill, though it was a different fog than before. It was a fog that couldn’t hurt them, anymore. Not now they were together.

[spaceskam]

the kissing booth (5)

The end! Thank you guys for reading all of the stuff I’ve written, I really appreciate it ❤️️

ao3

Alex didn't stop to catch his breath until he'd run all the way to the parking lot. 

He ran to his dad’s truck that he’d borrowed to get the fundraiser, bracing himself against the door. His eyes closed and he tried really hard not to think about what just happened. Actually, who was he kidding? That’s all he could think about. Soft lips, soft hair, hard something else. 

Alex Manes had never kissed a man before in his life and now he just fucking went all in. After watching Michael for years, he saw his chance and he fucking took it. How could he stop thinking about it?

Alex touched his lips and had to take a deep breath to stop himself from running back. He wanted to so badly. He wanted to kiss him until he couldn't breathe, until his lips were numb, until he tasted his name on Michael's tongue.

It was insanity, really. Ever since he'd seen Isobel's post advertising that Michael would be here doing a kissing booth, Alex had been planning. He never thought he'd actually go through with it, though. He thought it was all fake plans that he'd never do like how he could commit the perfect murder or successfully steal from Walmart. But no. He'd heard Isobel say he was taking a break, he saw Isobel leave the booth, and he saw his opportunity.

But now he dealt with the possibility that Michael might know who he was. Or, worse, that he didn't know. That Michael had just kissed a perfect stranger like the world was ending and Alex was the only one who had all the pieces of the puzzle. 

What the fuck had he just done?

-

“Sorry.”

Alex stared, partially frozen in shock as the one and only Michael Guerin stood in front of him. He waited in baited silence for what felt like an eternity as he waited for Michael to point out that he was the one who kissed him, to tease him for it. Instead, Michael looked him up and down. His eyes hovered on the school’s emblem on his chest and Alex watched his smirk grow into place.

“Sorry, do I know you?” Michael asked. Alex felt his heart plummet, though he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t really want Michael to know it was him. Or maybe he did. He decided he would hate either option because he regretted doing it. Why couldn’t he get his first real kiss like any other guy? Ask someone out, go on a date, kiss them at their doorstep, that kind of stuff. Why did he have to be a creep?

“Uh… No, I don’t think so.”

“That’s too bad,” Michael said. That caught Alex off guard. Maybe Michael had noticed him around. 

“Right, well… See you around, I guess,” Alex fumbled out, quickly exiting himself from the situation before he brutally embarrassed himself. 

Alex stood outside with his drink and tried his best to calm down. Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to be so stupid? More importantly, why couldn’t he kiss him again when he wasn’t blindfolded?

“Hey, Alex!”

Alex looked up to see cheerleader Lucy Geraldo jogging over to him. She was pretty, he could admit that, but she wasn’t his type. She was missing a pretty crucial piece of identity to fit his type. However, that didn’t stop her or her friends from flirting with him. Maybe it was his fault. He had made out with Hannah Kay at that party sophomore year. That was what had confirmed to him that he was super gay. It also confirmed to everyone else that he was absolutely not.

“I was just thinking about you,” she said, smiling as she pulled her thick hair over her shoulder, “I was wondering if you were going to Hannah’s party this weekend?”

Alex gave a tight smile and chose a sturdy lie. “Nah, I have to study.”

“Oh,” she pouted, “Maybe we can hang out some other time?” 

“Maybe,” he said. She smiled and waved at him and he hauled ass to the Crashdown. 

Which would’ve been great if he didn’t run into Michael again. He shouldn’t have been surprised, he knew Michael had a thing going on with Rosa for years now, but it felt like an extra layer of bullshit. Couldn’t he just enjoy his misery in peace?

“I’m sorry, he flirts with everything that has a pulse,” Liz huffed after Michael left.

“It’s fine,” Alex said, shrugging his shoulders. He thought about coming out to Liz if only so he could have someone to talk to about it. He was resigned to his fantasies and they were becoming unbearable, but he didn’t know how to begin. “You think they’re hooking up?”

“Who, Michael and Rosa? Absolutely not,” Liz laughed. Alex raised an eyebrow. “I can’t say much about what’s going on because it’s not my place, but they’re just friends.”

Alex firmly decided he liked the idea of staying in denial that Michael Guerin wasn’t sleeping around like everyone said.

“Okay.”

-

Alex left the library with a smile on his face and the desire to jump and scream.

He just flirted with a guy. Like, a guy who was right there and could see his face and flirted back. It was easy. Michael was interested. Or, he at least seemed so. Alex wasn’t sure why exactly someone like that would be interested in someone like him. Maybe he was just flirting because he could.

It didn’t matter. Alex was happy. He felt confident. That was so rare. Suddenly, he was really tired of hiding.

Alex made his way to the Crashdown, still hyper and high on the fact that a whole ass man had flirted with him. He even let himself think that maybe Michael would’ve kissed him if he saw his face. Hell, maybe Michael even had been watching him too. 

“Liz, can I talk to you?” he asked. She looked up from to him and then over to her dad who waved her onto her break. The two of them walked to the back of the cafe and sat in a booth. He looked at her and, for the first time, said it out loud. “I’m gay.”

Liz’s eyes widened and her head moved back in shock. “Really?”

“Yes,” Alex breathed, smiling, “I’m gay. But you’re the first person I’ve told, so please don’t say anything just yet.”

“Of course I won’t say anything, oh my god, I’m so glad you told me,” Liz said, the shock quickly being replaced with a smile, “I-I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything, I just needed to say it,” he told her. He left out the part that he was super excited because he just flirted with a boy in public.

“That makes sense. I’m proud of you,” she said. He smiled wider.

This felt good.

-

Alex flirted with Michael the next time he saw him at Bean Me Up. He couldn’t help himself. 

He felt those beautiful eyes on him the entire time and he didn’t know how he’d ever gone without feeling them. He was more than convinced now that Michael had noticed him before that first time they spoke. He was just too smooth, too cool, too perfect. He had to have prepared.

He was high on life, on being out, on being noticed.

-

“How long has he been sitting there?”

“Four hours.”

“Jesus Christ, why didn’t you call me?”

“My phone is dead!”

Rosa cursed under her breath and made her way to Michael Guerin. Alex had been watching Michael since he’d been there for only about ten minutes. He’d been methodically shooting the same four rubber bands into the same cup over and over and over. He was wearing what seemed to be four layers of clothes and his eyes were empty. It was the most out of it Alex had ever seen a person. It was particularly weird to see him like that. He was always so full of life, so present. Alex didn’t understand.

Rosa hugged him and brought him food. Every movement Michael made was in slow motion, still seeming not all there. Alex tried to imagine a time he felt like that, but he couldn’t. Michael seemed to be completely removed from himself.

“Can you wash his clothes when you’re done down here?” Rosa asked Liz who nodded.

“Hey, Rosa, wait,” Alex said before he could stop himself, “What’s going on?”

Rosa sighed and clearly seemed to be debating what she should say or shouldn’t say. She settled on, “He’s just not himself right now.”

Sometime in between it all, Michael looked up and made eye contact. Usually, he would smile. Usually, he would say something witty. Today he seemed to not even register that he made eye contact.

“Liz,” Alex prodded after Rosa had dragged Michael upstairs, “What’s that all about?”

“I shouldn’t say,” Liz hesitated.

“I wanna help though,” Alex nearly whined. 

Liz waited a moment and looked around a few times before leaning in close. 

“He kinda doesn’t have a place to live,” she said softly. Alex furrowed his eyebrows and sat back. How did someone like that not have a place to live?

Whenever Alex thought of the word homeless, he imagined people on the street who hadn’t bathed in years. He imagined old men with beards and shopping carts. He imagined… anything but a high schooler who had a truck and friends and a sexy smile. It didn’t compute.

“I don’t understand,” Alex said. Liz just gave a sad little smile.

“I don’t know much. I just know he’s been through the foster system and it didn’t go well,” she said. Alex nodded.

The next few days Alex spent padding out his shed. It was already pretty set for someone to stay there, but he decided to add another, thicker blanket and made sure everything was clean.

For once, he had nothing by confidence as he went to talk to Michael. This wasn’t about him this time.

-

“Who do you think carved those initials?”

Alex tilted his head as he took in the heart that had “H.R. + K.C. ‘54” written inside it. Ever since he’d found this time, he’d brainstormed on who those two could’ve possibly been and why they spent their time in the shed. He always came up with a different story. A married couple who built it, a ten-year-old girl in love with her neighbor, a boy who was about to go to war and wanted to make sure there was something permanent, an elderly couple who wanted to reminisce. 

“I don’t know. Could be anyone,” Alex said. Michael hummed softly which easily dragged Alex’s attention onto him. He was laying in bed, a blanket draped around him. He looked comfortable and like he was meant to be there. It made Alex’s heart skip a beat.

Things with Michael felt so comfortable. They’d been doing this for almost a month now, hanging out alone and just being. He could say anything without fear and so could Michael. He’d gotten to know him in a way he hadn’t expected and he liked him even more now. He liked the way he trusted him, he liked the way he joked around, he liked the way he had told Alex things that seemed so heavy and yet he made them seem light. Hell, he even liked the way he didn’t really flirt anymore. He was real around him. Mask off.

Fuck, Alex was in deep.

“Maybe it stands for Henry Rollins and Kevin Costner,” Michael began softly. Alex snorted, but let him continue. “Star-crossed lovers who couldn’t be seen with each other during the day, so instead they came here at night to be together.”

“Romantic,” Alex said.

“Very.”

Alex stayed in there for a little while longer, laying on the floor and thinking about what his life had become. He wasn’t sure how he’d become the type of person to provide food and shelter and warmth. He liked being that person. He liked being that person for Michael.

When he looked over to him, he saw that he was sound asleep. He was gorgeous when he slept. Well, he was gorgeous always.

Alex quietly left the shed and tried his best not to focus on how full his heart seemed.

-

Oh, how could life possibly be better than this?

Alex had mixed feelings the minute he let Michael into his house. He saw the way Michael looked at all the expensive shit his father put on display, he noticed the way that had suddenly activated his flirting again. Of course, that sort of got confusing during the haircut. More confusing when Michael outright asked if he was straight. Things were very confusing.

But staring at him while he was asleep just a few inches away? There was nothing confusing about that.

The room was shrouded in darkness and Alex had already tugged the blanket over them both. He knew he should’ve woken Michael up so there would be no confusion. But the problem was that he was already sure he’d fucked up, so why not fuck up more?

Slowly, Alex reached his hand out. He moved slow and careful, gently dragging the back of his finger over Michael’s jaw. He was tempted to just put his whole hand on his cheek, but he didn’t. He already had done that when they’d kissed all that time ago. He knew what he felt like. 

He touched him for a few seconds before Michael’s face scrunched up in the most adorable way, but Alex couldn’t watch because he was too busy snatching his hand away and pretending to be asleep.  Michael made a confused little noise as he woke up. He didn’t move for a second, but then he did and when Alex peeked his eye open he saw his face buried in the pillow.

He wanted this forever.

The whole weekend went that way. Bonding, talking, being close. They slept in the same bed, they ate the same food, Michael used his shower.

“You know, I knew you were rich, but you’re like… really rich,” Michael commented late on Saturday night. Alex had shown him how to make pad thai even though he was sure Michael wasn’t paying attention.

“Old, dirty money,” Alex said with a shrug.

“What does your dad even do?” Michael asked. Alex looked at him, watched as he continued to look around. 

“He’s military, but he has a lot of stocks. It’s all shares my great, great grandad had, passed onto him,” Alex explained. Michael nodded with an impressed look, giving him that flirty little smile.

“So you’re gonna have all that one day?” Michael asked. Alex felt his stomach tighten up in a way similar to when Michael had started flirting after registering the emblem on his uniform.

“Yeah.”

“That’s pretty hot,” Michael laughed, taking another bite. Alex changed the subject.

They climbed into the same bed that night, they whispered to each other, they slept in, they laid in bed for hours. It was so comfortable that Alex forgot. He let himself forget, he let himself focus on this. He just wanted so badly for this to be real. That a boy like that liked someone like him.

And then Michael sat him down.

“This whole weekend got me thinking really hard… I like you.”

//

“This is a bad idea.” 

“Why? I think I’m fucking brilliant.”

Michael ignored the way Rosa stared at him, eyeing him like she was super worried. Which she probably was. She seemed to only worry when it came to things about him. Still, he ignored it and continued to make sure he looked hot enough to meet the man of his dreams.

“Yeah, I know you do,” she said, “But whoever kissed you might not want to meet you somewhere so public.”

“It’s not that public though. That’s why I chose Bean Me Up, it’s small and can’t be too crowded,” Michael pointed out. Rosa sighed.

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean people aren’t going to crowd anyway. You advertised it and there are probably going to be people who are going to lie. Either to make fun of you or to trick you. I just don’t think this is smart and that’s coming from me,” Rosa said. Michael didn’t respond. He didn’t know how to.

It was true, he had advertised it. After loudly announcing it at the football game, he decided to be a bit more specific and got Isobel to make a post similar to the original kissing booth one. He put out a call for the guy who kissed him to meet him after school and that all he had to do was tell him what they talked about before the kiss.

“Michael,” Rosa said firmly when he turned around. She grabbed his arm and made him look at her. He did if only because she never said his name like that. “You are being reckless. What is going on? Are you okay? What happened?”

He stared at her for a minute and tried to find a quip about how she wasn’t his therapist. He found it hard to do that. She was always there for him and he was sort of being a dick in general. Michael took a deep breath, calming himself down enough to feel that dull ache in his chest resurface.

“I told Alex that I liked him and he freaked out on me about how I was just saying that because he has money,” Michael said, “I don’t even know why he’d even think that and I just… I need a good distraction.”

“And you think finding someone who kissed you in secret will do the trick?” Rosa asked. Michael shrugged.

“Worth a shot.”

“Have you thought about asking why Alex thought that? I’m sure there’s a reason. He’s a tame kid,” she said. He shook his head.

“Nah, I don’t want to make it worse. I’m just gonna put it behind me,” he said firmly. She gave him an unsure smile.

“Okay. Please be safe.”

“I will.”

-

So maybe Rosa had a point. 

Between 4 PM and 7 PM, seven different guys had come up to fuck with him. It was a nice, firm kick to the ego. The first hour, people had gathered around out of curiosity to see what guy had kissed him in such a weird way. It dwindled and dwindled as time went on which only made Michael feel even more deflated. He just wanted someone. Was that so hard to ask?

“Hey, I gotta go. My mom’s gonna throw a fit if I stay any later,” Isobel said around 8:30. Bean Me Up was only going to be open for 30 more minutes. That meant 30 more minutes before he was forced to face the reality of rejection. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” he promised. She gave him a sisterly smile and leaned to give him a hug.

“Let me know if he shows. And, if he doesn’t, come over. We can watch romcoms and eat ice cream and Mom can just get over it, okay?” she said. Michael smiled and nodded.

“Absolutely.”

When the clock hit 8:45 and he was the only one left in the shop, he was thinking about just heading to Isobel’s anyway. Leaving early would be better than being completely stood up. But then again, he’d already made it this far.

“We close in five,” one of the two baristas left said as the clock struck 8:55, sitting a full to-go drink in front of him with a kind smile, “On the house.”

“Why? Am I that pathetic?” he joked. Sort of. She still laughed.

“Well, no. You actually gave us a ton of free advertisement, so thanks for the nearly $300 sales jump today,” she said. Michael huffed a laugh and raised his drink to her.

“No problem,” he said, “I’ll head out so I’m not a dick.” 

“Well, wait, you still have four more minutes,” she told him, “You never know what could happen.”

So Michael waited.

8:57

8:58

8:59

“Can I sit here?”

Michael looked up to see Alex standing there. He looked fucking beautiful as always which was just annoying. Was he here to rub it in?

“I’m saving it for someone,” Michael said. Alex took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yeah, I know.” And then he sat down.

Michael stared at him for a few seconds before he got what he was implying. But what he was implying was impossible. Complete and utter bullshit. Michael shook his head slowly.

“What?” he breathed, eyebrows tugged together. Alex shrugged one shoulder.

“Now that I’ve seen you shirtless, I’m second-guessing the cub label. Maybe an otter in the making? Not sure,” Alex said. Michael felt like he couldn’t breathe. What the fuck? What the fuck? “They’re closed. Drive me home?”

“I… I don’t…” Michael fumbled out. This didn’t make sense. Why was Alex here? He rejected him. He didn’t like him. He wasn’t… This wasn’t… What? “How?”

“I’ll tell you,” Alex promised, looking so sincere, “I promise.”

Michael stood slowly, his head spinning and he had to grab the table to balance himself. Alex was mad at him. Alex didn’t know him. Sure, Alex had the cheekbones and the physique and the lips and the voice and fuck.

“I don’t fucking get it,” Michael said as they stood beside his truck. Bean Me Up had locked their doors and closed the blinds to give them their privacy. Alex was holding his drink since he was too lost to comprehend.

“I talked to Liz and she kinda explained to me that I was being irrational. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions and I definitely shouldn’t have hidden this from you. I should’ve just talked to you and I’m sorry for being selfish,” Alex said sincerely. It sounded way more sincere than when he’d freaked out on him. But, still, he couldn’t figure it out. He almost didn’t even care about the rejection anymore.

“I don’t understand how it was you,” Michael said, shaking his head, “I would’ve known. I mean, I should’ve. I hung around you, I heard you speak, I smelled you. How didn’t I know?” He paused for a moment. “You’re not fucking with me, are you?”

Alex gave a tight little smile and shook his head. 

“I wasn’t out. I’m still not, not really,” he sighed, “Look, when I told you I’d been idolizing you for years… I wasn’t lying. When I saw my opportunity, I took it and didn’t even think twice about what it meant. Then when we started hanging out, I was in too deep and I didn’t know how to bring it up. Then I got confused and, well, that ended badly.”

Michael rubbed his hand over his face, still trying to make sense of it all. “So, you don’t think I only want you for money?”

Alex visibly cringed. “I am so, so sorry for accusing you of that. I guess I just didn’t think you could like me and you mentioned the weekend and over the weekend you’d mentioned my dad’s money and, I don’t know, it was just a lot happening in my mind. Which isn’t an excuse. That was shitty of me and I will make it up to you.”

“Yeah,” Michael breathed, “I guess… I guess I’m just still…”

Alex sighed loudly and placed the cup on the hood of the truck before stepping into Michael’s space. He grabbed his cheeks and he kissed him. It wasn’t as wild as that one in the booth, but it was still a kiss from Alex. And then it made sense.

Michael went to push in closer, but Alex pulled away.

“Not here,” he whispered, “I just wanted to show you I’m not lying.”

Michael nodded. He knew he wasn’t. He’d been dreaming about that kiss and he’d been dreaming about Alex and suddenly it just was all one and it was all real and it was all here. Again, he felt like he couldn’t breathe, but for an entirely different reason.

“Can we go to the shed?” Alex asked. Michael gulped softly and nodded. There was nothing he wanted more. He was allowed to touch Alex. He could have that.

The drive to Alex’s house was very full of Alex apologizing in length. He explained that he was just overwhelmed and confused, but he should’ve talked it out first. He told him that the kiss was a spur of the moment and he told him that he’d been crushing on him forever. He confirmed that the weekend had meant a lot to him too. And he told him that he was gay.

“You’re only the second person I’ve told,” Alex said, “So… I’m still trying to figure it all out.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to come out until you’re ready,” Michael assured him once he found his words.

“I mean, I kinda don’t have a choice now. People are gonna want to know if you found your guy,” Alex said, taking a sip of Michael’s coffee. That did things to his mind that something as simple as sharing a cup shouldn’t do.

“Fuck them, it’s our business. I can just tell Isobel and Rosa that I found him, but not elaborate on who and then everyone else can fuck off,” Michael decided as he drove the bumpy terrain that led to the shed from the back way. Alex huffed a laugh.

“You can tell Isobel and Rosa,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. They love you, so they deserve to know that I’m not fucking torturing you. Or, at least I hope not.” 

“You aren’t.”

When they got to the shed, Michael sent both Isobel and Rosa a text to tell them how it went. Then he focused on Alex which was easy.

The tone between them changed as they got into the sanctuary of the shed. It felt slightly tainted from the last time they’d been there, but then again, not really. It was just that they were alone now.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said again.

“Stop apologizing,” Michael said, slowly moving closer. He wanted to get his hands on him. He wanted to kiss him again. He wanted to make up for three months of being lost. 

“I’m not experienced,” Alex warned as Michael gently grabbed his hips.

“I don’t care.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex said one more time. Michael huffed and shook his head, wrapping his arms around Alex and tilting his head for a kiss.

The kiss was slow and deliberate, taking it one step at a time. Michael wanted to soak in it this time. He wanted to be sure without a doubt that this was Alex and that this was his. This was his choice.

Alex wove his fingers into his hair and his lips parted, his tongue sliding over Michael’s in a way that was far too confident for a boy who claimed to have no experience. His hands moved up and his elbows rested on Michael’s shoulders so he could cradle his head closer. This made sense. This was coming home.

Michael pushed his shirt up to feel his skin. It was soft and warm and inviting. They made their way to the tiny bed and shared it for the first time. They fit well. His hand moved down a little bit to the hem of his jeans only to be stopped by Alex’s hand on his wrist.

“Not today, okay?” Alex whispered. Michael nodded easily. Happily, even. This was new. Slow. He could do slow.

“No problem,” he said, “No pressure.”

Alex stayed the night in the shed that night. Michael finally got his kisses and his cuddles. He finally got Alex.

As he drifted off to sleep with Alex in his arms, he thought about those initials on the wall. He decided that the story didn’t matter. It was two people who loved each other and this shed meant something to them. He made a mental note to add another heart.

A.M. + M.G. 

[geometricalien]

oh dear i'm super duper late but I have a lot of questions about your wips!! I wanna know more about sick Akashi, nekoma pirate crew, BoKuroo/BokuAka midsommer, Pining + Jacket, The truth burns and destroys, feeling good, Punk Noya, Strawberry Blonde, sunspot and the merman au!!! Thanks babe <333

Hi Vee!!! This is it, I spent wayyyyy too long on this, I think my finger is cramping from typing. But thank you for asking, I love sharing my ideas, sorry if it’s incorherent.

This is super long so it’s under the cut, saving people room

Sick Akashi 

So, it’s based off of a line prompt “I’d like it if you’d stay” and as the title suggests, 3rd year Akashi gets sick, sorry Vee it’s not fatal, Furihata comes to Rakuzan to check on his friend after he doesn’t answer his phone. The entire premise is Akashi works himself sick with his various responsibilities he takes on as “perfectionist who can’t show any cracks at all”. I don’t want Bokushi Akashi showing up so it’s minus the mental break elements. (also technically in canon terms it's after they have merged so yeah) I feel like they deserve a cute little “nurse” the other from a sickness ficlet. And… maybe… sick Akashi confesses…….. It’s almost a writing challenge for me because Akashi has a more polite sophisticated way of thinking and speaking, so cough yep

The rest are Haikyuu aus so buckle in

NEKOMA PIRATE CREW 

Admittedly this is more loose, less of a solid idea. It’s Yaku centric, and how he went from a merchant from his grandfather’s company searching for lost merchandise and became the first mate who keeps track of the ship's finances and keeps their captain Kuroo on track. Other things of note, he meets Kuroo first as a pirate on another ship who stole his merchandise, Kenma is a sea witch (is that science or magic? That's always the question), and about halfway through the adventure they get Lev on board as a new member. So yeah! Kinda a fetch quest but on of my favorite fanfics is legitimately a fetch quest so it's okay fjdkaljf

BoKuroo/BokuAka Midsommer

This is based off of a fanart by desdelasombra my friend Shayla showed it to me and we threw this idea around together, we really don’t want to write it but it's also spectacular. So it's the movie Midsommar, right? Bokuto is a “gatherer” bringing his friends to come join in his village’s rituals. But we didn’t want anyone to die (except for Kenma sorry he’s dead as the substitute for the main character’s sister), so a grieving Kuroo comes with his boyfriend Bokuto, joined by their friends the smart studious and jaded Oikawa and bright bubbly Hinata. Obviously the three react badly to the first ritual and Bokuto doesn’t understand because for him it’s always been a joyful experience and he wanted to share it with his friends. A Lot of things happen, but most important is Akaashi and Kuroo dancing under the may pole together. BokuAka was in the past when Bokuto was home so part of this is them coming together as poly and escaping the final scene of the movie. Again this is very painful but that art is beautiful and the world is better for it being created

Pining + Jacket (KuroLev)

Again this is a line prompt about lending a jacket because it’s cold and it had so much potential for pining and who is the most pining bastard that I know? LEV and Shayla told me about KuroLev and somehow this happened. It’s currently going to be a sequence of drabbles of Lev pining after Kuroo, what else could you ask for? Uh? Lev confessing to Kuroo and them going out??? Sorry I can’t hear you over the exquisite angst and pain of one sided love that I want to explore

The truth burns and destroys

GOOD CHOICE, I began this on saturday night and it has earned a very special place in my heart. Sometimes I fear that my writing is like a lazy pool, sure it's nice and easy and smooth but there isn’t an intensity or raw emotions, BUT THIS this accomplishes what I want. And I’m really glad, its metaphor and imagery heavy but it really captures their emotions and thoughts without it sounding like I’m a 7th grader writing my first fanfiction glances to my abandoned wips from that time. Okay, Vee, I am a glutton for punishment and angst and I choose to pursue cheating fics. But specifically where and how they build the relationship up again after finding out. So, I was reading a KageHina cheating fic and how the character’s reacted felt off somehow so at midnight I wrote this snippet to fullfill my craving, you know what they say the best fanfiction is self indulgence. Here is a short excerpt,

He wants to brush this aside and continue their lives. He wants to wake up next to Tobio and still be seen the same way. He doesn't want anything to change. 

Tobio is his favorite book. He has read it time and time again. Highlighting, underlining, cherishing. So Shouyou is able to read the silent begging in his eyes. The right clenched fist. 

"Shouyou," a deafening pause "What is this?"

Please lie to me.

…

It stretches on. The eternity of silence. They sit together holding on to the last hope they have. Shouyou memorizes those beautiful hands, each crease and bump. Hands that helped shape him become who he is and that reached out unwaveringly. 

Tobio sighs a world ending sigh. 

Shouyou was the one who created their world, it's only fitting that Tobio is the one who destroys it.

In summary I like angst, I want to feel something 

Feeling good

AAA, okay uh, This is a BokuAka pop star au. Akaashi sings “feeling good” at a big charity event hosted by Akashi (... yes I am AkaFuri trash and I can and will sneak them in anything and everything I write) while he is singing he walks down a big staircase remembering moments in his relationship with Bokuto, how much they have grown and how much he loves him. I love the concept! But I tried to write smut in the beginning of it and OOF THATS A NO. I actually have the majority of it written but I do want to add more emotions and thoughts (the lazy pool writing) and make it Ao3 friendly because I have all of the lyrics for feeling good in it as “post signs” for what he sings and that’s against their rules. 1 major aspect of this fic is it's all leading up to the point where Akaashi says “I love you” for the first time to Bokuto after finishing the song, on stage, in front of everyone and on every screen broadcasting it.

Punk Noya

I have a love for feral boys, especially feral alternative punk boys (and girls and humans) so this whole idea is that Noya goes to another school for high school, embraces more punk aethsetics, and on the first day of the preliminary tournaments he hears the rumors about a high schooler in a gang, getting up to nasty things, and he decides to confront them. He finds Asahi, rants him out and leaves. The plot then follows canon, at the winter tournament Karasuno faces Dateko, Karasuno loses even more badly because Noya isn’t there. Asahi quits volleyball, BUT Asahi and Noya run into each other at the store and talk leading to friendship which leads to romance. Idk man, I want more punk haikyuu characters, it gives me life. Alt Yamaguchi is my favorite but onwards we go

Strawberry Blonde

!!!! So this is Mitski’s song and to give a vague idea this is a pining Kageyama fic where he tries to pull away from Hinata and that back fires. (I  do have more to say but I’ve been typing this for over an hour and I’m getting really tired fjkdaljl) There is one paragraph that I love, so here it is! Kageyama and Hinata are practicing by themselves outside of school and they are playing pepper (its a volleyball warm up practice routine where you partner up with someone pass, set, and spike the ball to each other sesquentially) Hinata goes to spike the ball and for a moment Kageyama sees it, 

They are at nationals and they made it to finals. The crowds are screaming, but everything except the court is thrown into shadows. They are at match point of the final set. Everything is at peak intensity and at the center is him. Flying in the air. Orange hair waving with the momentum. His loud take off echoing in the gym. Arm poised for the kill. Eyes sparking with ferocity and passion as he aims. And finally, tipping the world over is the loud slap of his hand, sending the ball to the far side of the court-

This was actually going to be finished and posted in time for Haikyuu season 4 coming out and the manga wrapping up.... clearly I failed my goal fjdaklfj

Sunspot

You don’t know this about me but I love royalty aus, and this is BokuAka Prince Akaashi and Knight Bokuto. This was a short snippet of this grand idea I have for them where they run away from Akaashi’s inherited destiny together. It has potential to be really wide and expansive with the differnet teams as different kingdoms (AGAIN ILLUSION OF CHOICE, that fic really influences me doesn’t it fjdskalj) But this was a short glance at Akaashi taking a break from studying and watching Bokuto and the other knights practice duel. The title comes from the fact that Bokuto is a sunspot in Akaashi’s life, and his day is substantially better basking in his golden shining light.

Merman au

I’m so glad you asked about this and its technically the one I’ve written the most for since it's actually the one I posted on my haikyuu writing side blog. But brief recap, long term it’s a BokuAka little mermaid au but instead of a sea witch it’s an underwater deity who makes “wishes” (it's a deal) with every royal who is born. And Akaashi has a lot of siblings: Ushijima, Oikawa, Suga, Terushima, and Hinata, and its in that order. So I have information on every sibling’s deal, what they wish for, what they give for it, what happens to them in the future, romantically and otherwise. But, this is the one I haven’t updated in over a year, I am working on it!! I’m currently on Koushi’s (suga’s) wish/deal, its just taking forever. If you want to learn more about it I’ll link it in parts  1  2  3  4

BUT I will work on Suga’s part and then Terushima’s and then to the meat of the idea with Akaashi. 

If you have made it this far, thanks, you are cool as always. My brain and fingers is ded. 

[centhands]

Truth or Dare - Noah Centineo Smut

AN: OK YA’LL, SO I haven’t written a fic or one shot in about, oh god I don’t know, SEVEN FUCKING YEARS?!?!?!?!? I was all about hazza back in the day but tbh there is some SERIOUS DIRE NEED for NOAH FUCKING CENTINEO SMUT on here and I cannot believe I wrote one?? Just spent the last 3 hours on it, instead of sleeping. It might be bad but idk it’s at least ONE MORE NOAH SMUT SHOT?? Idk :///// lemme know what you think!! It’s super long pls bear with me I TEND TO ALWAYS WRITE NOVELS OH GEE LOOK AT THIS LONG AF AN!!

TLDR: you’re about to play truth or dare (kind of?????) with Noah fucking Centineo. PLEASE SIT DOWN BC FILTHY SMUT IS ON THE WAY!!!!
Hope you enjoy, let me know if you do!! (Pls message me I need friends and followers on tik tok, jk, only jking about tik tok, I really need friends

…………………………………………………………………….

You gazed at the clock once again, for the what was actually the thousandth time that night. 11:00PM on the dot. To make matters worse, it was a Friday. Not only could you not fall asleep for shit, but the daunting thought of being home alone on a Friday night, only made your insomnia worse.

You sighed as you rolled out of bed and walked lazily to your living room. As you plopped down on your couch, you decided to open up Instagram. While scrolling through your feed, you happened to notice you had a message notification. You clicked on it and instantly a smile lit up your face. A photo of your best friend, and roommate, Noah, with a sad, puppy dog face and a pair of nerdy 3D glasses. The simple message is what really did you in. “Wish you were here. Xo.”

You and Noah had been best friends for the last five years and have been living together for two. You’ve loved him since you met him. His gorgeous eyes, his toned body, his adorable, dorky smile, his hearty laugh. It all made you melt.

You were completely in love with him and he had no fucking clue.

It was absolutely frustrating, to be quite honest. At times, you get so fed up that you just want to pack up, leave, and go start over somewhere else, hoping you’ll forget all about Noah Centineo. Forget all the times he hugged you tightly and wiped your tears away as you cried. Forget all the movie and dinner dates you had gone on, one of the best parts being your spitball fights. Forget all those times he’d tell you he could never sleep, and he’d ask you to just lay with him until he dozed off, saying he just needed a quick cuddle before bed. Forget all of the little, most adorable, seemingly insignificant (but actually meant the whole world to you) moments you both had shared together.
But you knew there was no way that could or would ever happen. You were absolutely smitten.

You noticed he had sent that message over two hours ago. His guy friends had declared it their “Boys Night Out” and decided to go see a thriller 3D film. He looked so cute in those glasses..

You felt your phone buzz and noticed Noah had just texted you.

“Hey, you up? Be home in five. Let’s hangoutttttttttttt! :) Movie sucked. Should have just stayed home with you and watched Clueless for the 18th time. That bad.” He wrote.

You scoffed and instantly replied, “How dare you insult Clueless. Not sure if I can hangout with assholes who insult classic chick flicks.”

“I’ll have you know I’m well versed in chick flick classics. If you can honestly call that a classic….. yikes.”

You laughed, as you typed your response. “You’re evicted. Goodnight.”

“The lease is in my name, love. Let me in little bo peep, I’m outside.”

“We don’t take our keys anymore, now?” You inquired, as he strutted through the door, popping his collar to perfect his extra sassy entrance.

“Nope,” he said, popping the P, “I have them. Just wanted to annoy you and get greeted by your lovely face.” He said, wearing his proud smirk.

“Well, that trip from the couch to the front door made me tired. I’m going to bed,” You jokingly said, turning around to play into it.

“Noooooooo,” he whined, running over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind you, “Be nice to me!”

You felt yourself getting weak in the knees, your head spinning and your stomach churning. You didn’t know how much longer you could possibly put off kissing this boy. Especially when he put on his cute act like this. He could be so sarcastic one minute and so fucking cute the next. How were you supposed to control yourself?

“Okay, okay,” you said laughing, collecting yourself after what felt like an hour but had only been a few seconds. “What should we do?”

“I think it’s been quite a while since a proper game of “Truth or Dare”, wouldn’t you say, (Y/L/N)?” He asked, winking at you. Oh, this fucking boy.

“Of all things to do on a Friday night at 11:15, you want to play Truth or Dare?” You asked, giving him only slight fake tude, crossing your arms over your chest while smiling at him.

He grinned. “As a matter of fact, I do. Sit down. I’ll start.” He finished, patting the spot next to him on the couch.

You rolled your eyes but listened anyway, getting comfy next to him while you waited for him to start.

“Y/N, truth or dare?” Noah asked, staring at you intently.

“Truth.”

“Do you still sleep with your nightlight?”

“Um, DUH! You know it gets way too dark in our apartment with these dark ass curtains you picked! I refuse to be tortured because you like to sleep in and not know the sun has risen!”

“That was obviously a touchy subject. My girl thinks the curtains are too dark. Noted.” He laughed as he spoke, obviously getting a kick out of you. He always did.

He would randomly throw in the, “My girl,” comment whenever you would get a bit snarky with him. He always pointed out how you two were already like a married couple. The playful banter would sometimes solicit him making those couply jokes, and as much as they made you melt, you would also realize it didn’t mean what it did to you, to him.

“Hello! Earth to, Y/N! It’s my turn!”

“Sorry. Uh, tr-Truth or dare, Noah?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to go ding dong ditch someone on the 5th floor.” You said, looking down at the ground.

“Y/N, you’re so boring. And I’m way too cozy to be getting up for something so childish right now,” he smirked. “I might as well give myself a dare.”

“Well, why don’t you go on then, Mr. Too Cool For Lame Dares?” You chuckled, looking at him now.

He suddenly got a little more serious, which you knew meant business. He was always lighthearted and happy go lucky. Of course when situations called for it, he was an absolute rock. He gave the best advice, best pep talks and words of encouragement, and you always felt like you had someone on your side. Something must have been weighing on him.

He licked his lips before he spoke. He started slow, “Alright then,” he said, letting out a small nervous, and slightly unsure laugh. “I…. I Dare myself to kiss you, Y/N.”

“You.. what?” Had you heard him right?

“I dare.. I fucking dare myself to fucking kiss you. It’s all I’ve been wanting and needing. This has literally been on my mind for way too long now and it’s driving me crazy. You’re driving me crazy,” he rambled on, his eyes fixated on you for your reaction. “I can’t keep pretending like every time I see you, or every time we hug that I don’t just wanna hold your face and kiss the fuck outta you,” he finished.

You were stunned, mouth open. Speechless, really.

He cleared his throat, his voice sounding much raspier, and sexier, as he reinstated, “So, as long as you’re okay with it and maybe want that too, I dare myself to kiss you.”

“Noah.. I-Uh.. okay,” you silently answered, looking at him with big eyes. You didn’t know how to react, you were worried it was some kind of joke. It didn’t seem real. This handsome, amazing guy, wanting you just as much as you wanted him?

“Okay,” he breathed out a laugh; his breath had hitched as he answered.

He kept his eyes on you as you both slowly leaned in. You closed your eyes and the instant you did that you felt his lips on yours and honestly, you could have cried. Everything felt so right and everything was hazy. You felt yourself get more comfortable and more into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands found your face, as he pulled away from you for a second, eliciting a quiet whimper from you.

“I cannot begin to express how long I’ve wanted this for. And I really cannot explain how beautiful I think you are. Everything about you, Y/N. You’re all I think about. All I thought about while watching that dumb movie was how small and delicate your hands are, how good your hair smells, how your smile literally lights up my day.” He then dropped the contact from your eyes to your neck as he dipped low and kissed your sweet spot. “How badly I want to be with you,” he continued on, sucking your neck a little bit this time. “How badly I need you.”

“Oh Noah,” you moaned, “I want you too. I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I need you. I really fucking need you.” You were panting at this point, as he was still sucking your neck. You weren’t sure how but you realized at this point your fingers were wrapped between his curls and his breath was shaky against your skin.

“Fuck love. Are you sure you want this? I promise I do, I just want to be sure this is what you want too. I just want you happy, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you from the moment I met you, and I’ve been so nervous to fuck this up. I can’t lose you,” he said, looking back into your eyes, searching to make sure you were okay with what was about to happen.

His words had reassured you, and you finally felt a weight lifted off your shoulders. You gently kissed him, and felt him get into it, lips lightly caressing yours, tongue skimming your bottom lip. You pulled away to say, “I’ve never been so sure, Noah. I’m in love with you too. Always have been. Pretty sure I always will be. Kinda hoping that’s not too honest, but I’m just trying to keep it real,” you laughed a bit.

Noah laughed too, and replied, “You silly, silly girl. You think that honesty of yours isn’t one of the main reasons why I’m so head over heels for you? You’d have thought that in the five years you would have picked up a clue on one of my many obvious signs. Dork,” he teased.

Before you had a moment to retaliate, his hands wandered to your hips and he pulled you in for the most passionate kiss you’ve ever received. He kissed you so gently, yet so fervently, you felt your body turning to mush. He slightly tugged the tips of your hair and you moaned into mouth, allowing him access to slip his tongue in. His warm tongue glided over yours and softly caressed yours. He made you feel so fucking sexy by just kissing, you couldn’t imagine how he could make you feel kissing other parts of you or doing other things with other parts.

You’d only hoped you’d ever be able to find this out. It was your lucky fucking day.

You shifted your body to lay more into him and rested your hand in his lap, only to hear him let out a guttural moan. You’d been so into the heated kiss you hadn’t realized you were a bit further into his lap than you thought and you’d been grazing his dick.

This time, you smirked at him, and went right back in for the kiss, slightly palming him through his jeans, feeling him getting harder with each second that passed by.

“Fuck, Y/N, you make me fucking crazy. You make me feel so good,” he half whimpered, his voice, and his cock, straining.

“C’mere,” he muttered, easily picking you up and shifting you onto his lap. “That’s better,” he grinned cheekily, his hands now resting on your ass.

He put his hand behind your head and pulled you in for another hot kiss. He had one hand resting on your ass, and his other was used to tangle your hair around his fingers. He deepened the kiss by adding his tongue, and you felt your panties absolutely pooling. You needed friction and you were quite sure he definitely wouldn’t mind some.

You stood up, having to break the kiss and having Noah pout at you, to take off your pants. You went to get back on Noah, but he grabbed you gently to stop you. “Tsk, tsk,” he tutted at you. “I believe you’re still wearing too much clothing down there,” he said, pointing to your panties.

“Well, don’t you think the person who has a problem with them, should be the one removing them?” You quizzed, your voice sounding extra sultry and turning Noah on even more so if possible.

“That’s definitely,” he started, getting on his knees in front of you, his head right below your waist, “Not a problem.”

As he finished his sentence, you were a bit confused, but that only lasted a second. He made his way to the elastic band of your panties and locked his teeth into it, pulling them completely off, and pulling you back onto his lap, in one slow, seductive yet swift move.

“That’s better,” he sexily smirked, once again resting his hands on your, now bare, ass.

You decided to be the bold one, and begin to move on him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Slowly grinding down on his hardened cock over his jeans, the pressure feeling absolutely out of this world on your clit. You could tell Noah was into it too. Besides his hooded eyes resting directly on your face and his soft moans, his hands were pushing your ass back and forth on him and slightly down a bit, so it felt better for both of you.

You started slow, yes, but fuck, Noah was fucking packing and you couldn’t help but pick up the pace. You started grinding your hips faster, and that still wasn’t enough. Noah felt that you needed more so he pressed down a bit harder and pushed you a bit quicker back and forth over his cock. You couldn’t help but stare down at where your clit was rubbing his jeans and notice the big wet spot pooled on his pants. It felt so dirty, so raw, so fucking hot. Noah’s hands travelled to your tits, as he started to squeeze while you kept your fast rhythm, humping your bare pussy over his jeans.

“Fuck, Y/N.. I feel- I feel you through my jeans. You’re soaking. I need your shirt off. Now. Fuck,” he strained, his voice so raspy and needy.

He removed your shirt quickly, and proceeded to finally remove all of his clothes in one take. You took to your new found favorite place, yet again, on his lap and slowly lowered yourself onto him. You started grinding on his cock again, teasingly slow. The instant your dripping pussy touched his tip, he let out a moan from his belly, a long, dragged out, “Fuuuuuuuuuck.”

He flipped you over so you were beneath him on the couch. Both of you were silently thanking yourselves for deciding to purchase the couch from Ikea that turns into a flat sofa, big enough to be a bed.

He brought a finger to your mouth, in which you happily obliged and allowed him to put his finger tip in and you began to suck on it. He watched you from above, his mouth in a slight “o” shape, precum leaking from his dick from being so fucking goddamn turned on by you.

He removed his finger from your mouth and brought it between your legs and toyed with your slit, expertly gathering up your juices, and slowly bringing his fingers to your clit to rub circles.

“Noah, just like that. Right there. Feels so— yeah, feels so fucking good, Daddy,” you said, trying to wind him up. You had called him it as a joke previously one day during another playful fight, and he tensed up for a bit and shortly went to his room after. You now had a slight hunch as to why.

“Oh my god, Y/N. What are you doing to me?” He moaned, slipping a finger between your folds and then slowly entering your warm, wet, pussy. “You’re so fucking tight. God, I can’t wait to feel my girl wrapped around me. You’re gonna feel so good, love. I’m gonna make you feel so. Fucking. Good.” As he finished his sentence he gave you a couple of nice pumps with his fingers, as he added another one in somewhere along the way and it only heightened your pleasure.

You were a moaning mess and needed him. You weren’t beneath begging. In fact, it turned you on. You wanted Noah to have his absolute fucking way with you.

“Please, I need you Noah. I need you,” you whimpered, feeling his dick now pressed between your folds, slowly grinding up and down on your swollen clit.

“Mmmm, my girl is so polite right now, isn’t she?” He toyed, moving his head down to suck your nipple whilst staring at your eyes.

“Please, Noah. I need to feel your big dick inside me. I need you to fuck me so good that I can’t fucking walk after. I need you to be so deep inside me that all I know is you and your name. I need you to cum for me. Please,” you begged, whimpering as he was still sucking, and now moaning, on your tender nipples.

“You don’t have to fucking ask twice. Especially when you sound so sexy begging for me, love.” He stated, bringing his lips closer to your ear, “I’m going to be the best fuck you’ve ever had. You won’t remember anyone before me, and there certainly will be no one after me, I’ll make fucking sure, love. Grab my shoulders, babe. Or pull my hair. Your call,” he whispered, sucking your ear lobe at the end of his cocky speech. It only made you that much more soaked. You were dripping on his thigh that had been pressed between your legs during the duration. He also noticed this, as he said, “Mmmm, I love feeling you on my thigh. You’re fucking drenched.”

“All for you,” you whispered, totally out of breath at this point. How the fuck did you end up here, naked, under your best friend who you’ve been in love with for all these years, whose also naked and has just professed his love for you, as well? Um, WHO FUCKING CARES, WE GOT HERE!

He slipped a condom on and positioned himself at your entrance. “Like I said, let your hands roam wherever they choose. I’m gonna take you on the ride of your fucking life, princess.”

He slowly entered you, neither of you being able to contain the moans that erupted in your bellies. “Shit,” Noah whimpers, as one of his hands grabs onto the end of the couch, the other around your waist, “You feel so amazing. So warm, so wet. So. Fucking. Tight.”

He was all the way inside you, balls fucking deep. He slowly slipped back out and all the way back in, his cock caressing your insides and making you feel as though you could already cum all over him. You had your head in his neck as he continued pumping himself in and out of you, and you started sucking on his neck.

“Yeah, fuck, that feels so good. You feel so good. Fuck. I can’t believe we waited this long. I love you so much, Y/N. My god, fuck. You’re so fucking tight for me.” Noah said, panting after every other word.

“Oh, I love you too. So much. Shit, yeah Noah! Oh my god, right fucking there, Daddy! You feel so fucking good. Your big cock all the way inside my pussy, you get so fucking deep. My god, go faster. Yeah. Please, please keep fucking going,” you moaned, your voice definitely raising an octave.

“Fuck,” Noah whimpered, pumping faster to keep up with your demands, as he locks eyes with you, his mouth completely open as he slams in and out of you while keeping his fast pace. The couch is shaking and it’s only elevating the sex appeal of the entire situation.

Noah can tell you’re getting close, and he’s feeling like he could bust at any second, so he brings his fingers down to rub fast, hard circles on your clit, while he pumps quickly in and out of you.

“Fuck, Noah, yes. Oh my god, yessssssss! Keep fucking going, just like that,” you yell, turning Noah on more and more with each second that passes. He feels as though he can combust just fucking watching you. You’re absolutely perfect.

“Yeah, you like when I’m fucking you so hard and playing with that pretty pussy of yours? You like when I take care of you huh, my girl? I want you to let me know how fucking good you feel. Let everyone in the building know who’s making you feel this good, love. Cum on my cock, Y/N,” he panted and moaned, sounding just as close to his release as you were.

“Yeah Noah, you make my pussy feel so fucking good. Right there, you’re hitting my spot fuck. I’m gonna cum all over you, fuck. Oh fuck, yeah please, oh my god I’m cumming, Noah!” You yelled, definitely loud enough for all of the neighbors on the 7th floor to know exactly what you’re doing and whose doing it to you. You released all over him, your ears ringing and legs shaking. Your body felt ignited in a way you’ve never experienced before. You wanted him to cum so bad. You needed to see him cum. Ultimately, you needed to be the reason he had to cum. “Fuck, Noah, please cum for me. I need to watch you fall apart on top of me. I need you to show me how good I make you feel. Let me know how much you love my pussy,” you panted, pushing him to his release and his thrusts getting sloppier.

“Fuck, you’re so filthy. My feisty, dirty girl. Who knew you had such a filthy mouth? You’re gonna make me cum, Y/N. Oh fuck, yeah love, fuck I love you. Oh, yeah, shit,” Noah moaned, voice literally raspier than ever as he slammed his hand down on the end of the couch, gripping it for dear life. You felt his cock twitch inside you and his face scrunched up while he moaned inaudible words and chanted your name and he released into the condom, still inside of you, locking eyes with you just as he had cum but he had to close his eyes from the pleasure being so intense.

His body collapsed onto yours, and you wrapped your arms around him, as you both came down from your highs. He was silently tracing shapes on your arm while his head was resting in the crook of you neck, planting small kisses to the spots he had sucked on earlier.

As you both finally caught your breaths, he lifted his head and caught your eyes. He raised his hand to brush away a piece of hair that clung to your sweaty face, as he sweetly and softly laughed.

“I can’t believe I went to that dumb fucking movie and came home to tell you how in love with you I am,” he said, smiling down at you.

“All thanks to a solid game of truth and dare that hardly took off,” you chuckled, staring right back into his gorgeous, sweet eyes.

“Shit,” he said, realizing you hardly got through the game. He smirked, “Y/N, truth or dare?” He asked, as he grabbed your hand.

“I’m too tired for another one of your kind of dares.. Truth,” you said, snorting as you laughed.

He kissed you gently before placing his lips at your ear and whispered, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

[abbeyfangirl]

dragon age: all characters (companions)

I’ve been in this fandom for a hot minute now and I want to update my opinions on characters :)

Origins

Alistair: super sweet dude who literally is not the stereotypicalchantryguyfightme. He’s a great example of healthy masculinity and I totally wish he was bi because I have an entire essay on that— also: he’s a poc! His mum was brown. In game he’s got dark features. if you really want a blond/blue-eyes/white guy, make your warden that. or accept that brown people can be noble and moral. or just draw cailan, idk. just because BioWare whitewashes doesn’t mean you should.

Leliana: someone hug my singing girlfriend before I crush her under with my own hugs. Also: nugs. Yes! Shoes. Yes! She likes how I style my hair? YES!! I honestly think she’s super duper and it pisses me off whenever someone’s like: yeah she enjoys killing people and the Game. ok. and michel de chevin willingly participated in genocidal marches through the alienage he grew up in with his elvhen mum. 

Morrigan: dirty swamp witch that i stan and also have a v big crush on. tiddies. Have a son with a GW so we can raise him with our tiddies out in the forest. she’s also white-passing, as her father was chasind and all people we’ve seen that are chasind are black. therefore, she is biracial. therefore, poc can be goths and don’t shy away from giving morrigan a darker skintone. if the devs had of been thinking, she’d have a darker skintone.

Zevran: Actually is the best romance, I think. Loves consent, therefore I will stan him so hard my skull cracks a little. Also: he is a very brown boy and if he’s white in da4 I’m seriously going to throw all canon out the fucking window. genuinely a good person who needs to be told so. 

Wynne: grandma who only likes my friends who go to church. but also super sweet and I’d rest my head on her bosom (in a platonic way omg ZEVRAN)

Sten: angry quiet boi. the bestest boi. I totally would give him a kitten for a gift and bake him cookies. Thicc softie. I think if I had DA:O and i knew how to use mods i would mod the fuck outta him. sorry.

Sha(y)le: who’s gender? idk her. See also: fuck birds and authority. pound ur ass into the ground you feathery meatbag little shits. fuck songbirds.

Dog: such a good boi. thicc. thinks Alistair is a whiny fuck and is Morrigan’s only friend. love him. he’s the cutest companion. bet.

Ohgren: honestly forgot about him bcc he’s such a shitbag. also: he could’ve been a really cool addiction recovery type but NOPE. probably would have a trump shirt in a modern au and would catcall wlw and hit mlm. no thanks.

Awakening

Anders: he acts like rlly straight but he’s so gay I can smell it. also he’s rlly cute and fun and I love him so much.

Justice: MAYBE i’M selF CONSCious OF THE twitchING. is the friend that genuinely doesn’t get dick jokes but is ur 110% ride or die.

Nathaniel Howe: honestly is sort of a white knight/neck beard a little, but it’s kind of charming with his whole velanna m’lady?? grump boi. annoying soul patch that I’d mod out SO FAST—

Sigrun: would have ROMANCED the FUCK out of her. why she even entertains the idea of fucking with ohgren makes me realize most of the writers are dumbfucks.png. peppy little emo. 12/10 would die if she kissed my cheek teasingly.

Ohgren: why. why. why. I’d have brought Shayle over. Maybe Zev? Definitely Dog.

Velanna: she was written to be an annoying feminist and you can tell but I deadass am a kindred spirit with her bcc I too am deadpan annoyed with Thedas’ general population too. love her. Would’ve loved to romance her. She’d totally be one of those who’d get all tsundere and be like “n-no i hate you” *kisses the fuckin soul out of you then blushes so hard she’s now a tomato*

Dragon Age II

Anders: fuck the cops. i don’t care. fuck the cops. (vine reference). also: do i hate him for blowing up the chantry that would eventually annul a huge collection of his people? no. read dalishious’s meta on Anders. v intriguing. didn’t they retcon the fuck out of the reported deaths too? like there was like eight Templars and Elthinia in there. Templars killed more “abominations” in a day than Anders in the game canon—

Aveline: initially thought she was fine and then realized she’s shit to my lil brother and I will fucking clap her ginger ass. See also: whorephobia isn’t a joke so fuck off with treating Isabela badly, you tit.

Bethany: sunshine. Literal sunshine. I feel my freckles grow in her presence and i love it. she’s my little baby sister and I’d slam that ogre so fuckin hard before it touched either twin.

Carver: there has to be a mod where both twins survive. I love them both to bits. My babies. carver is my bitter, angry little brother and I can relate because I too am very angry and would totally clap my own ass. hes so genuine and I don’t get the competition between Beth and Carver. Like, both are fuckin stellar in different ways. In this essay I will—

Fenris: honestly, I don’t get the general hate between him and Anders. Fenris’ main arc should’ve been a recovery arc, not drunken moping and revenge. he deserves better. give him a soft sweater instead of his spikes and let him love himself as much as I love him for MAKERS SAKE. like when you really think about their relationship, it could’ve been an eye-opener for fenris and finally some legit sympathy for anders. but we all know that if they had of teamed up that Meredith would’ve been dead before the end of Act 1 so.

Isabela: whorephobia is not a joke. oversexualizing your only appearing brown woman is so poorly written. how about we appreciate her and her lovely bosoms but also let people tease her about her heart of gold? her innate understanding of freedom? instead of just a wave of dick? please?? can we give her some pants for when she fights? can we accept that i fall for rogues who hate themselves?? fuck. also whomever draws her x femHawke x Merrill literally is after my own heart.

Merrill: my fucking babygirl MARRY ME. Fenris could’ve been her older brother type, but NO. she and Isabela should’ve been canonical gfs instead of Isabela/Fenris (no shaming the pairing tho!!). I love how she’s written as neurodivergent. V nice. Sometimes I just look her up and cry because she’s fucking everything. Also: she’s in the Dalish origin and she’s far from being white. Why did they make the most innocent/naïve character really white? hmmmm.

Sebastian: whew that boy. Would totally be that annoying Mormon at your door but you still let him in bcc he’s super sweet. Also: huge ass bible thumper and should get his head slap because you said the maker loved all his children why do you defend a complicit old hag you annoying attractive fuck—

Varric: totally is a bard and the devs couldn’t handle the idea of him being one bcc it might make him look less straight. is the only grey morality person I don’t want to fucking bash in with a fry pan. he sees people and I like that, but you totally know he’s siding with mages every time bcc him and Anders are like besties. I’m sorry. I don’t make the rules. “Professional Younger Brother”.

Tallis: I know nothing about her but she seems okay. I think she was an escaped slave and honestly? Fucking props. Spy on a shitting organization, idk what you’re doing, but your VA was that cool lesbian from SPN so I think ur okay?

Inquisition

Blackwall: Redemption Arc 101. Love him to bits. Sad dad bunwall. good man. actually atoned for his sins by actively becoming a good person. his initial design is 80% hotter im so sorry but so not.

Cassandra: was way browner in the last game. would romance the fuck outta her. I love me a butch lady who melts at my dorky recitation of poetry. BioWare is a coward. also is the worst choice for divine. but not a bad person. could use some more guidance or get her ass whipped by a dalish elf about religion or a circle mage kid whos like “yeah bud i didn’t ask for the templars to whip my ass everyday for existing.”

The Iron Bull: I think the Qunari/Vashoth were a little based off black people (the whole anti blackness thing where ppl are scared of them bcc of whatever reason) and it pisses me off that he had a weird ass dubcon thing with Dorian in banter. It doesn’t make sense— he’s an A+++ dom and would not jump straight in role play without at least checking in at first like wtf BioWare.

Cole: his mother was chasind so he’s like not supposed to be that white? or like biracial? albino? idk. love him to bits tho. He’s neurodivergent and I deadass love him. romancing him? idk. I see why ppl think it’s fuckin nasty but also like as a writer I’d age him the fuck up so fast before my inquisitor even THOUGHT about that. like idk. I’m down with him being a sweet little bro character tho. he’s a babe. love him.

Sera: had the worst fucking writer I’ve ever seen and I willingly read the twilight saga twice by a shit ass racist white lady who okay’d pedophilia. like. Fuck you Kristjanson suck your own dick you fuck. had the worst options in regards to speak to her. has a thicc case of internalized racism that literally most of the fandom just loves to use against her. my lesbian neurodivergent queen. Would write a thousand fix it fics for her. Love her to bits. im gay.

Varric: I haven’t played DA2 so i don’t get why everyone wants to romance him but like. a dwarf romance? yes please. Idk he reminds me of my uncle so I only see him as fun uncle material. Deadass should adopt Cole and Merrill and co parent with Blackwall for Sera. dads? fuck yeah. love me some wholesome, present fathers.

Dorian: is a gay stereotype that I love/hate so much. and he’s also just as bad about being a creep bcc he sexualizes qunari men (in banter). I attribute that to shit writing tho. I want to protect him from all the “omg gay best friend!” people. he’d clearly be that tired gay that wouldn’t give a diddly damn about ur het romance. wanna talk about politics? he’s ur guy/gay.

Solas: “me, an intellectual:”. I don’t hate him, but I’m not about him. He comes off as mysterious and suave (which he totally is) but I deadass would not save him from himself because he’s a racist, exclusionist eggshell. idk. not my cup of tea, but I can totally see the appeal. And he’s interesting, I’ll totally say that. “I think the Dalish are garbage but they made you” is not a compliment. it’s so offensive. and such bait for “quirky girls” which I’m no fan of. Would be Achilles and let Patroclus (Lavellan in his case) die before he realized how his pride is literally a waste of time. If he gets a redemption arc I hope Lavellan gets to slap him before getting him to teach all about ancient Arlathan and show that the Evanuris weren’t all total dicknozzles. (Aka I really have a hard time believing that they’d be slavery cult things. especially since they’ve compared elves to indigenous ppl, Jews and the Romani.)

Vivienne: it’s so racist that they’d make a black woman be pro-slavery. That’s such internalized racism. She could’ve been the cool ass “educate yourself first before you speak, fool” ice lady, but NO. the devs could’ve kept the “Templars are a tool that I proudly can mandate” and the “circles are very good education” and we. Could. Have. Romanced. Her. Like. Fuck. Sake. I just wanna give her a hug and say “love yourself omg!!” and not even in a romantic way. Also: she and morrigan should not have been so antagonistic towards each other. I’d expect them to have great respect for each other, as they both moved up in the world through hardwork and very little help. They could learn different magic from each other too and still maintain that rival respect “oh you” mood. Sidenote: probably the cooler option for Divine. if her approval is high enough she’ll love and be loyal to you forever and i can’t see her agenda being bad. she improves the circles exponentially and tells all the antis to suck her pretty painted toes.

Josephine: an actual disney princess. romanced her my first playthrough. I love her so much. she just makes me so happy. And she’s like: “Integrity, Loyalty, peace. That is what it means to be a GREY WARDEN good fucking person.” she’s the person who would let you hold her hand if you got anxious and she’d be that person who shouldered the whole group project with finesse and poise and would probably lie for everyone as to not be mean. i love josie. her and leliana’s relationship is so cute, too. whether it’s romantic or not: women supporting women.

Leliana: if you leave her hardened you must hate her. why. she becomes so against herself. i like how shes feminine and lighthearted because that’s so powerful-- to remain hopeful when the world is hopeless. (its hard to know when to soften her/harden her so i get it but. google it. she deserves to be happy and sweet again.)

Cullen: uwu war criminal with shit ass “redemption arc” that was actually a half-assed (at BEST) recovery arc. Recovery isn’t linear, it isn’t pretty, and even the broken need to be told they are wrong in order to heal right. Like I’m offended by that bullshit. I’ve had to do some mental health recovery in the past and unlearning lots of toxic ideologies— which I’m still unlearning— and it bothers me that he gets an easy pass because he’s hot. It’s one thing if you like Cullen, it’s another thing if you hold him accountable.

[meiwks]

A Really Bad Riz Gukgak Fanfic

I really wasn’t sure if I was going to post this.. I haven’t written fanfic in like a year and this was just a random Drabble I scribbled out thinking about how goblins are portrayed and thieves so often- so uh... read it if you’re into that sort of thing? Sorry it’s badly written.

For real- I’m sorry it’s so garbage

***

[Game start! Enter your name!]

A bright light shone off the computer onto the face of a short, tired goblin. His hand was shaky as he downed some coffee, before moving it to type in ‘Riz’ on the dirty keyboard. He had entered in some random raffle to play an early demo of a game called ‘Heros of Craghlour’- said to be a game with one of the biggest character varieties with many many endings. Even some added classes that were specific to this game- like the detective class! Let’s just say Riz was hyped- especially knowing that there was an entire route around being a detective in this game. His computer was old and clunky, but with some help from Shellford and Skrank they managed to make it at least usable.

After his name he was told to pick race- easy. He scanned over the races, reading the descriptions casually. It was mostly as expected.

Human- a truly diverse race that can cover many bases, can be good in any class!

Half-orc: strong fighters who make up with their lack of smarts with high strength! They tend to not to think before acting, but their actions make a big inpact!

Elf: A wise and powerful race with a strong magic connection. They tend to make for really good magic users such as wizards or sorcerers!

And then he saw it. Finally he reached his own race for his super cool detective character..

Goblin: Small, agile little creatures. Tend to take things that don’t belong to them, and are small enough to sneak around, making them amazing for adventurers who don’t like to charge right into the action!

.. ah. Right. The whole.. thief thing. I mean that was fine- it was probably a joke, but.. damn. The joy of the game had faded a tad for Riz after that, especially when the first recommended class was a class called the ‘Thief class’. It even mentioned goblins in the description. Wasn’t rogue enough? Did they really need to add a thief class? Rogues sounded cool as hell. Thief sounded like dirty criminals.

This was enough for now. He promised himself that he would get back to the game eventually, but for now.. maybe he was overthinking this. I mean it was probably fine- it wasn’t like this was new, and they probably weren’t trying to insult goblins.

Riz turned off his clunky old computer, chugging down the rest of his coffee and heading to his bed. He shot a quick glance at the clock. [2:48 AM]. All of his friends were probably dead asleep by now..

But despite his conflicted mindset, he found himself listening to what Jawbone had told him earlier this year.

“Your feelings are valid, and so is asking for help. I know you want to do everything all by yourself, but sometimes it’s okay to rely on other people. I’m always here to talk, and your friends care about you too much to turn you away okay..?”

With a hesitant, shaky hand he typed out into the group chat [hey, game kinda bummed me out, you guys up and wanna talk??]

To his surprise, he got a response after a few minutes. And then another. And another. First it was Fig, then Kristen, then Gorgug, Adaine, and finally Fabian to complain about the amount of notifications he was getting.

It didn’t take long for Riz to completely forget about the dumb game.

[ghostwinchesters]

memories can be fatal

sam and dean get get locked in a walk in freezer when a hunt goes wrong, and it brings back cage trauma.

hey, lads, i'm back !! this is terrible and i hate it, but i wanted to give y'all something. half of this was written a while ago, and now i badly finished it off [finger guns]. (big tw for heavy anxiety and shit i’m so sorry i hate myself too.)

ao3

Sam’s eyes snap open and the first thoughts to run through his head, as incoherent as they are, are “Oh, G-d. I’m in the Cage. Lucifer is torturing me. Oh G-d.” Cold chains dig into his wrists and his feet aren’t even properly touching the floor. A chill runs through his body and his head feels foggy. Something in the back of his mind, something sensible and far away, is telling him that he’s drugged. That he’s not where he thinks he is. That this is just a hunt gone wrong. But it’s so far away.

His surroundings are dark but he can vaguely make out something— a body? against a wall a few feet to his right. Or is it his left? His head feels really bad and the panic that’s causing all the nerves in his numb body to tremble isn’t helping.

He wants to call for help but Lucifer doesn’t like that. He’ll just be more violent and Sam will just hurt more everywhere. And it’s not like any help will actually come way down here. Everyone has given up on me.

The figure against the wall moans softly and that doesn’t sound like Michael or Adam and it’s definitely not Lucifer. It sounds like… G-d, it sounds like Dean though. Why is he here? Why the fuck is he here?

Sam’s eyes aren’t adjusting to the dark very well and he swallows hard. “Dean?” Saying anything without Lucifer’s explicit permission is always a bad idea but he needs to know if it’s really Dean and not just another hallucination. “Dean.”

G-d, it’s too cold. Way too cold.

It’s tight and cold and empty and dark and so… so dooming.

“Dean, please.” Sam stumbles as he tries to turn towards the slumped figure, and he gasps as the chains pull at his shoulders and his wrists. He’s slowly adapting to the chilled darkness, and he can just barely make out a pale face behind an arm that’s strung up to the wall. It looks like Dean’s cheek. Please be Dean’s cheek. “Dee, don’t leave me here alone. Please.” Sam’s voice is trembling a little, but not anymore than the nerves in his arms and in his legs and in his hands and in his chest.

He lets himself collapse as much as he can, too tired to hold himself up by the arms anymore. He’s not sure how long he’s even hanging here and everything aches. “Wake up, g-ddammit!” It’s a half-hearted yell, his voice cracking hard and he wants to cry. His head is a wreck right now and he’s trying so hard to hold onto his sanity and calm but it’s slipping too quickly. “I fucking need you, Dee.”

“Sammy?”

It’s a really quiet and confused whisper and Sam isn’t sure if he’s just hearing things from the dim corners of what feels like a freezer. Or maybe he’s remembering something. Fuck, he’s not sure. Of anything.

“Sam?” It’s louder and more worried this time and it’s definitely his big brother.

“Dean,” he sobs his name like it’s a fucking prayer.

“Sam, are you okay?” The words sound like they’re stuck in Dean’s throat, like he has to force them past his own panic and worry for Sam.

Sam tries to respond, to at least nod, but he’s falling apart and passing out sounds nice and he has tears building in his eyes and now one’s slipping down his face and this is all terrible.

Lucifer is going to hate this.

“Hang on, okay? I’m gonna get you out of there.” Dean is talking, just blabbering about G-d knows what while he’s struggling to pick the lock with his left hand. “We’re both gonna get out of here. Gonna go find those motherfucking vamps and cut their damn heads off.”

Why the hell is he talking about vampires?

The nagging feeling in the back of his brain is still there, existing stubbornly, insistently. He’s forgetting something. Missing something. Something’s wrong.

Dean groans loudly in relief and Sam flinches at the sound of metal hitting metal as Dean trips to his feet and towards Sam. “You okay?” His hands somehow feel warm against Sam’s freezing, tear stained face. “Sam, are you okay?”

“Please just get me out of these chains, Dean, please.” Dean is already doing it before Sam can finish his sentence but now that Sam has started talking he’s not stopping. “Quick. Please. Lucifer, he’s gonna—”

Dean meets his terrified but somehow vaguely blank gaze instantly at that, shock and horror and sadness in his eyes as he untangles one of Sam’s from the icy chain, gently trying to rub it to bring back proper blood circulation before awkwardly reaching up to get his other arm away from the trap. “Sam, Lucifer’s not here.” His voice is soft and pained. “He’s not here, I promise. He can’t hurt you.” The other cable slips away from Sam and Dean wraps his arms around his limp body, moving behind him and letting them both drop to the floor against one of the walls. Sam’s partially slumped on top of him, one leg slung over Dean’s and his head pressed against Dean’s shoulder and neck. Dean doesn’t make any effort to push him off or away.

“We’re in a meat locker, Sammy,” Dean mumbles. His voice reminds Sam of nights a long time ago. Years, decades, centuries, maybe fucking millennia ago at this point… It reminds Sam of nights when he’d have nightmares as a little kid and Dean would tell him dumb, funny stories to distract him. But sometimes he’d just describe the room to Sam. The peeling walls and the lumpy beds and the tables with the old, flickering lamps and old, flickering TVs almost dangerously balancing on top of them. He’d just describe everything in the room because he always said that none of Sam’s nightmares could get every detail of every motel room exactly right and he needed to prove that to Sam. That they were just nightmares and that he was okay.

“There are four walls and it’s pretty small and super cold. Some metal shelving lining the walls and a few standing around the room too. There’s one tiny lightbulb in the corner that isn’t really doing it’s job.” Sam tries to follow what he’s saying and as far as he can tell, the description is matching his surroundings. “Pretty sure there are some bags of blood, which is disgusting, but they’re there.

“Some vampires drugged us because I guess we were dumb and we thought we could take them.” Dean huffs out a laugh and it feels like he’s gently rocking Sam. “They dumped us in here, chained us up. I don’t know why they didn’t just get rid of us for good. Maybe they know we have people who would come after them even harder if they ganked us.” He pushes Sam’s hair out of his face. “We’re gonna get out of here though. And I got you, little brother. I got you.”

Sam nodded his head shakily. They sit in silence for a minute while Sam catches his breath a little longer before he hesitantly tips his head up to look at Dean’s face. “So you’re sure Lucifer isn’t here?”

“He’s not here, I promise.”

“Okay.”

Only now that he’s starting to calm down, does he realize how violently he’s trembling, and he’s not sure if it’s because of the cold or the panic.

Dean rubs his knee soothingly. “Hey, you’re okay, I promise. You’re fine.” He touches his own forehead and winces. “They really got us good, huh?”

Sam’s shoulders tighten when he sees the deep cut on Dean’s temple. “Are you okay?” He tries to reach for Dean’s face, worried, but he’s so stiff he can barely move.

“Hey, I’m good. I’m completely fine. I think this is just where they knocked me out." Sam stares at him. “I’ll be fine.”

Sam wants to argue, but he’s too tired and he knows it’s no use right now.

“Okay, we need to get out of here, buddy. Can you stand up?” He pulls away slightly, starting to get up, and Sam shudders at the loss of heat. “I’ll help you, come on.” He grasps his hands and supports his weight as they both stumble to their feet.

They limp across the room to the door, and Dean lets Sam slide down the wall to the floor again. “Just wait right there, Sammy. We’re almost out.”

Sam nods and closes his eyes.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me, man. I can’t just carry you out.” Sam is extremely aware of how loudly his Dean’s teeth are chattering.

“Mmhm. I’m just... tired. I w-won’t fall asleep. As long as you don’t take too long with that door.”

“Shut up.”

Sam coughs when he tries to laugh and smiles weakly instead.

“Seriously, man. Shut up. We’ll be out of here soon. Save your breath.”

He’s not sure how long Dean takes with the jammed lock, because as hard as he’s trying to stay present, he’s having a hard time focusing. He jerks his head up when he hears Dean finally slide the door open, trying to jump to his feet quickly, but tripping in the process.

Dean grabs him, pulling him up properly. “Whoa. Whoa, dude. You’re fine. I just got the door open, sorry.” 

“It’s ok-okay.”

Dean tightens his grip on Sam’s shoulders and gently tugs him through the the doorway. They shuffle their way across the warehouse, Sam flinching at every slight creak that he hears.

“You wanna wait here while I get Baby?”

“No!” Sam inhales shakily. “No. Please.”

“Alright, okay. It’s just that the trees are pretty thick, okay?”

“I don’t care. I don’t... I don’t wanna stay alone.”

It’s an uncomfortable walk through the woods to where they’d left the Impala but it’s ten times better than it would have been to have been left alone.

Sam falls into the seat when Dean opens the door for him, his eyes closing tiredly. Dean gets in on the other side as quickly as he can and Sam reaches for him, still too anxious not to be close.

“You know what, I’ll just let Jody and Donna know about this one because we are not going after these vamps right now.”

“Dee, not for m—”

“Pfft, no, man. This is totally for me. I need a g-ddamn break after pretty much carrying you all the way here.”

Sam rolls his eyes but smiles.

[queenburd]

and in the end; chapter 6

Final chapter before epilogue. I ended up reading a trillion Good Omens fics before writing this one, as it was written after I finally watched the show. As such it gets super sappy and I realized about 3/4 through that my romantic orientation, while complicated, actually exists, so I think it comes through here. Because I’m a sap.

chapter 6: I think you're my best friend

callbacks and references: April 2016, Getting Better All The Time, February 2018 (Jumanji Aftermath), and like I said before, all agents are just straight up have Good Omens references

[TRANSMISSION RECONNECTED. RELAYING...]

[PLAYBACK]

There were moments, Kass thought through the comings and goings of consciousness in the following hours, where reality seemed turned on its head. Reality and dreams were interchangeable and confusing. Perhaps the hours where he'd felt pumping adrenaline and near exhilaration were little more than fantasies playing out in his sleep. Perhaps nothing had actually changed.

It was this thought that kept him from opening his eyes, focusing instead on his other senses as if to try to prepare himself for the harshness of reality.

There were voices around him, he noted vaguely. He was in a bed, softer than the cot in his cell, with a gentle weight draped across him. His upper half was not horizontal, but it was in a position that didn't ache or force him upright. Faintly, Kass recalled the medical ward beds used in the site to examine D-Class personnel after a tricky SCP encounter, and agents sneaking pain medication from the cabinets.

He figured, then, that perhaps a scip had done things to his mind, playing on wishful thinking. That would make sense. It would not, however, account for the gentle warm weight pressed up against his left side distinctly familiar. It was the same feeling one would feel when smelling their grandmother's cooking after years away from it, and it immediately relaxed him.

May was curled up beside him, her head on his upper arm. He could feel the rumble of her chest as she spoke meaningless words to meaningless people.

She served as his single anchor to what was real and what was not. So long as he could feel her pressed against him like a second pillow, he knew what was true.

He was safe.

Eased, Kass would fall back into dreamless sleep.

-

When Dib stepped into the med bay of the lab, his fingers digging into the worn fabric of dark clothing that wasn't his, he had to pause at the sight that met him there

The med bay was mostly dark and empty, save for a single bed at the end of the row. It was a clean, organized space, and so the motley pair that was curled on the mattress stuck out like two sore thumbs.

It was, at least, a relief to see May getting some well-earned sleep. She'd hardly taken the time to eat or rest, despite desperate promptings from all parties, in her hyper-fixation to her task. It was scary to watch, and so the image of her, quiet and peaceful at last, was a small weight off Dib's mind.

No, it was not May that had Dib pausing several feet away, although he was wary to wake her. It was the figure she had curled herself around, who seemed dreadfully small and frail in his current state.

Kass, with his hair barely more than lilac fuzz and his frame dwarfed by deep ugly orange, looked frail. His scar was more visible without any method to hide it, and with his glasses lost, the bags under his eyes were deep and prominent, the lines of his face emphasizing that he was pushing into his forties, and that it had been likely for most of his life that forty was about the end of the line.

It was difficult, like this, to compare the weathered middle-aged man on the bed to the man who had threatened him, insulted him, disgusted him for almost half his life. More difficult, still, to find that deeply ingrained dislike that Kass had placed in both of them.

Dib had not hated Kass for a long time now. He had stopped bothering to hate the man who was more a nuisance than a threat sometime while said nuisance lived in his garage. Certainly, he had never bothered to trust Kass, and that likely was unchanged even now, but with time they had been able to talk like two civilized people would in passing.

But it registered to Dib, standing at the end of the bed with Kass's clothes still in his hands, that he had never really considered Kass as just a person. It had been far easier to regard him as a simple concept, like a sour taste in one's mouth or an annoying cat, because then, when it was gone, he just didn't think about it.

Kass was a person, and it had never really sunk in. He was a person, just like Dib—tired, small, and only capable of taking and doing so much.

Could he really blame the guy for spending twenty or more years thinking about how the world was rotten and stupid, when he, Dib, had done the same for only ten, before people had forced him to see otherwise? Could he really hold himself above Kass for finding hope long before Kass ever could?

He supposed not.

As he stood there, contemplating how bizarre it all was, May began to stir. She stretched her neck, rolled her shoulders, and looked up at Dib. For the first time in a week, she smiled like she had before—genuinely and softly.

“Hi, hon. Thanks for doing that for me.”

“It's not a problem,” he said, placing the clothes on the end of the bed. He glanced from them back to Kass's face.

He should get Kass a beanie. It was only fair.

“Did everything go okay?” Dib asked, his fingers interlacing awkwardly. “When you didn't check in before portal hopping, I got kinda worried.”

“Yeah,” she said softly, laying her head back against the mattress and Kass's shoulder. “There was a window there where I was worried about getting stuck in a lock down, but we managed to get out just in time, and everything went smoothly after that.”

“Good. I, I'm really glad you're okay.”

He looked down at the pilly fabric, teeth digging into his lower lip. He should apologize, he thought, for doubting her, or questioning her decisions. He should--

“Hey, Dib? I'm really sorry.”

“What?”

When he looked up, May's face was twisted in genuine guilt. “I'm really, really sorry, hon. I know that, when I got back that first night, I was freaking out a lot, and I lashed out, and it wasn't okay.”

“May, no,” he began, shaking his head, but she shook hers right back.

“I scared you. You just wanted me to think rationally, and I wasn't in the place to do that. I thought you were just totally fine letting Kass get hurt, because--” her voice cracked “--because I was so ready to view anything, everything, as an obstacle to get over. I know you're not like that, and I still--”

“May.” Dib moved to her side of the medical bed, taking her hand. “Hey, slow down. It's okay.”

“It's not, though. I let myself get overwhelmed and angry, and I hate letting that part of me out.”

He sighed. “Look. I don't blame you. I misspoke really badly in the moment, because I was scared for you. And you know I don't have the best track record thinking kind thoughts when it comes to, well. Him.”

She smiled again, weakly. “I know.”

“It's okay to be mad. You were scared, who can blame you for seeing enemies all around during an adrenaline rush? I'm not gonna hold it against you.”

“Okay,” May whispered. She sounded so young sometimes, and this was one of those moments. It was nice to have a friend so open to being vulnerable, but it also made him worry, sometimes, what went on in that head of hers.

Such a thoughtful person. He hoped that she believed him when he said it was okay. He hoped she forgave herself.

Dib looked between her and the man she was curled around again, wondering. He'd been doing it a lot, lately, in the moments between helping her plan the rescue. Really, he'd been wondering it since she had told them that Kass had tried to lead the Foundation away from her with no regard for himself. Maybe he had wondered it for longer, but not consciously. That would have taken more awareness, something Dib was not the best at when it came to other people's emotions and thoughts.

“Hey.”

He blinked, forcing himself to focus on May's face once more. She was giving him a curious look.

“You've got something on your mind. What's up?”

Dib chewed on his bottom lip, caught. She was a little too good at that. Sometimes, he wished she didn't passively tune in on people so well, but she wouldn't be May if she didn't. Besides, it wasn't like she had much of a choice on the matter.

“It's not important,” he started. “I'm just thinking.”

“Nah, it's okay. Go ahead, hon.”

He mulled it over for a few moments longer, if only to get his thoughts in order. Talking about this stuff was hard.

Finally, he asked her the question he'd been asking himself for quite possibly months.

“What, um. Sorry, don't take this the wrong way, I don't wanna assume. Are you and Kass, uh, a thing?”

He pinched the little crease between his brows hard, grimacing. “Sorry, that's not the best wording. Let me try again.”

“Okay.”

Her voice was even as ever. Dib inhaled and tried again. “You guys have a kind of hard to pin down relationship. I know you guys are friends, and I'm not trying to question that. It's just.”

He made a little gesture with his hands, then let them drop. “You were so messed up about the whole thing. And, I mean, I get that, if it was Simon, I'd be freaking out too, and I definitely would have made a plan to go get him. But, because it's the Foundation, I'd be so careful from the get go. I wouldn't just...”

May was watching him quietly. He groaned internally. Why was this so hard?

“You didn't care about any of that. You didn't even think about how dangerous it was, you didn't care how many people were in your way. You seemed ready to dive in, kick the doors open, and grab Kass by the collar, like there was nothing else to it. I don't think there's anyone I'd feel like that, for. Just, ignoring consequences like that.”

She looked away from him, instead staring at the blanket. Dib watched as she pressed herself deeper into the crevice she had made beside Kass, as though hoping to sink into the mattress or the body beside her.

When she spoke, it didn't seem very sure, but it was deeply contemplative.

“Maybe, because I have the privilege of never being threatened by the Foundation firsthand, or because I know I have the upper hand for nobody knowing my weaknesses. Hell, maybe it's just me being reckless and stupid. But, honest to god, Dib, I was ready to kick the doors open. I was ready to tear the roof off the building, release every monster contained inside, cause a massive breach, if it meant I could bring Kass home. You saw my bird form outside? I can be so much bigger, Dib. I was ready to be the size of a mountain, I could have let everyone inside see my true form, and I wouldn't have cared.”

He could feel his mouth hanging open. Forcefully, Dib closed it. “That is the worst idea I've ever heard.”

May laughed, near breathlessly. “That is what Kass said when I told him.”

“Good! That's terrible!”

“But efficient,” she quipped, snorting laughter. “And it would have worked too, the place would have been too busy dealing with scips to deal with me, and--”

“May--”

“--And nobody lines their walls with pure gold, Dib. Nobody! Nobody even knows!”

Dib paused, biting on his inner cheek. “Okay, fair, I'll give you that, but it's still the worst idea in the world.”

“Noted,” May said, giggling childishly. She was smiling, still lost in thought. Her hand was in Kass's larger, wiry one, thumb idly running small circles on the flesh between his thumb and forefinger. It seemed incredibly intimate, private, like Dib was intruding on something enormous. When May spoke again, her voice was back to that quiet thoughtful place.

“I don't really know what Kass and I are. I don't really know how to define our relationship in a way that encompasses it correctly. He's my best friend, I know that much. He's not my other half, nothing as simple and silly as that. We're two whole people, we just... fit.”

She looked for the first time at their hands intertwined, continuing.

“We've both got a lot of rough edges, but we're really good for each other. He makes me better. I like to hope I make him want to be better for himself. He seems better, at least.”

Dib watched May's eyes trace upward, following Kass's exposed neck and unshaven jaw.

“But maybe there's more to it? I don't know, Dib, I really don't. I don't know what makes relationships different and definable. I just—what I do know,” she said, forcefully, trying to find an answer, “is that I want him to be okay. I want Kass to be better than okay, I want him to be happy. I want him to feel joy, because when he's happy, Dib? I feel at peace. I love him a lot. I love him exactly as he is, and I always have.”

“Always?”

“Always,” May repeated. “Even when he was an angry, depressed shithead. Even when he was at his worst, I loved him. He didn't exactly make it easy, but I loved him anyway, because I could always see that he didn't know what else to be. He didn't know how. Nobody had ever showed him how. I wanted to do that, I wanted to give him that. I wanted him to have the chance to be himself, without all those layers of angry, paranoid, scared. I loved him so much, because—because.”

She bit into her lip. “I don't know why. It never really occurred to me to not. That first moment that I saw him sitting on the front step in the snow, hands shaking, I felt something in me ache, and all I wanted was to make him smile.”

The way May looked at Kass's sleeping form, in a mix of self-assurance (that he was even there) and consideration (that he was alright, that he was sleeping in peace) was an act of devotion that Dib had no real way of understanding. There was something to it that he couldn't quite grasp; the need to be sure that the other person was alright, but never feeling burdened by the need. Needing to know that the other person was at peace, simply because it brought her comfort, nothing more.

No, he couldn't grasp it. He understood wanting to be sure his friends were alright, but this level, of needing it to feel comforted, and yet not feeling tied down, but instead feeling uplifted--

(“I think,” she began again softly, her lips quirked into a little smile as she looked at her bed-mate with utter fondness, “the only word that can kind of. Encompass this relationship. I think the only word for it is, partners. Kass is my partner. He's my partner in crime, in life. We're a team.”)

--Well, it was love. Plain and simple.

-

“Dib made these for you,” May said, while Kass was pulling his shirt on after his shower. She was holding a small box out to him, and after some wrestling the shirt down his torso (clean, for the first time since his return, it felt almost unnatural to be stripped of the layer of grime he had felt on him for days), he took it.

He opened it, and was careful with the contents as he popped them onto the bridge of his nose. The glasses, free of 20 years of scratches, put the world back into clarity. They fit like a charm. “Christ, I can actually see properly again.”

He nudged them up his nose a smidge, then looked at the girl blinking up at him.

“You look like shit.”

May snorted hard, shoving his chest a bit. “Asshole,” she drawled, exuding fondness.

It hadn't exactly been a witty comment, not entirely. May looked very tired around the eyes, but saying so would have been indelicate. So Kass merely smiled in a cheeky manner as she continued.

“These ones won't break or scratch. I was going to ask him to make a pair for your Christmas present, but...” Her shoulders rose and fell halfheartedly. “Timing.”

It had been two days since they returned from Site-17. Kass had spent most of those 48 hours sleeping, but on the second day, Bonnibel had given him one last once-over and told them to quit squatting in her lab. She had allowed him the opportunity to shower, and offered him some kind of solution to grow his hair out. Kass had declined with probably more venom than was necessary, considering the help she'd been so far.

Now, he pulled a black and gray hoodie onto his scalp, yanking it low enough to conceal the pale lash on his forehead. “Ready,” he said simply, sitting on the edge of the med bay bed as May looked him over.

She leaned over him. Even now, sitting as he was, she barely had to look down to meet his eyes. She pressed her hands to his cheeks, feeling the hollowness of them. “You need a shave,” she said. “So fuzzy.” Her hands were warm.

He allowed her a few moments to play with the coat of stubble that had formed on his jaw, then nipped at her fingers. “C'mon. Let's get out of here before Juicy Fruit decides to “run a few more tests” on me.”

When May opened the door to 3, Tesla Drive and led him in, Kass felt something akin to a wave of vertigo pass through him. The familiarity of it all was a stark contrast to the past two weeks—the couch was clean, the coffee mugs still on the coffee table, where he had left his, the night of the mission.

None of it had changed, and he suddenly felt so out of place and time—disjointed—that it was a struggle to stay upright. His knees had gone wobbly.

May turned to him, concern clear on her face. “Hey, hey. Do you need to sit down?”

Kass began to shake his head, but his vision had gone a touch unsteady, and so he changed his mind, nodding weakly. May's hand held him up by the waist, leading him to the couch to drop like a stone. Her hands framed his face for a moment, unsure.

“Need anything? Water?”

When he finally found his voice, it was a touch hoarse, and he didn't know why. “No. Just need to... reacquaint myself.”

“That's alright.” Her tone was gentle. “Take your time. You want me to sit with you?”

“Don't have to.”

“Okay. I'm going to go shower.”

Belatedly, head still swimming, Kass realized that in the past three days, he had never been without her. She had always been in the same room as him. She, too, was in desperate need of a shower. So he nodded wordlessly, and watched her back as she climbed up the stairs with a weariness that she seemed to have concealed from him until now.

There was a vague concern tucked in the back of his mind. He put a pin in it, and chose instead to try to get his head on right. Kass closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch cushion, attempting to ground himself back into the reality that was this; simple, home.

Home. He was home.

Kass had never considered any place home, not really. They were temporary spaces; never his to worry about or take care of. They had never lasted. Yet here, this house, with belongings that were his and routines that were theirs and countless moments that left him feeling exposed and safe all at once, he knew this was home.

May had brought him home.

His palms pushed into the cushion of his seat, repetitive kneading into familiar fabric that placed him in the moment. He needed the grounding, because there was a sensation in his chest that bubbled upwards and outwards into the rest of his body.

Kass was by no means an emotional man; he was not driven to tears easily, but now, in this moment, he felt overwhelmed, like his heart was trying to grow and pound out of his chest. This place, in the near two years he'd lived in it, had always been a stable one. It, and its resident, were unwavering in its dependability to give him safety and comfort.

Dependability had been a commodity for too many years—people had limits. They had catches, they wanted things, there were lines crossed and broken until everyone had chosen to focus inward, on themselves, on saving their own skin and providing their own happiness. Save yourself, you have to save yourself, nobody else was going to help you.

(And then, an oddity, a peculiarity, standing in the middle of a crowd, had grabbed him by the wrist, led him to a quiet place, and said hello. I'm here. I'll give you anything you need. Let me help. And he hadn't asked, but he had been drowning in his own head, and she was a buoy, and he had latched on and not let go.

And she, stubborn, stupid, soft, had let him. She'd put her own arms around him, held him out of the water, showed him how to tread it, and led him to shore.)

“Save yourself, because no one else will,” but she had gone to hell and back to save him. She had placed herself into harm's way, as May had countless times, with no hesitation, just to keep him near her. She loved him so sincerely, it had never even occurred to her that the dangers were more real for her than for him. It had never played into her decision. Not once.

She loved him, he had thought there for barely a moment, but now he couldn't let go of it. It was looping in his head, in the same way it had looped I can't get away but she can, she can, she can in a factory two weeks ago. That stupid, strange, four letter word that had never fit in his mouth right.

And then he thought (and the thought, despite being entirely unfamiliar, seemed like it had been in his bones for months now) I love her too.

There was nothing so shocking about it, because if he thought about it rationally—well, Kass had already known that he loved May. It had become as normal and unnoticeable as breathing. It had shown itself in small ways, like intertwined fingers and cruel nicknames turned fond. It had overtaken him in a small dark room with a vent and a desk, like it had pushed her to ignore dangers if only she could be with him a second more.

In barely a heartbeat Kass had decided she had mattered too much to him, for him to let anyone become a threat to her.

Love was not what Kass expected it might be. He had always thought it made people weak, complacent to cruelty and easily irrational, and there had even been times where he thought it, love, was unnecessary to happiness. He was surprised to find that love was a hard punch to his gut, in a way that was not at all violent, but completely soft and warm, and yet still fully capable of knocking the wind right out of him.

He pressed his hands over his mouth, trying to control his breathing.

She loved him, she loved him, she loved him. It didn't echo so much as ebb and flow, like there was an ocean of love in his chest, the waves pushing over his heart, before receding, and then again, overwhelming him, leaving him equally aching and overstimulated all at once.

He tried very hard to breathe normally, and if his eyes were wet it was because he was exerting so much effort in the task and nothing more. Distantly, he tried to remember the faint thought that he had set aside, and when it came crashing back, the lovely ache in his ribs intensified.

It was the exhaustion that had leaked out of May's body in the moments she had stepped away from him. It was the way the coffee mugs were still on the table, untouched. It was all these small things he finally began to absorb, that left him wondering if she had taken care of herself at all in the time without him there.

Had she remembered to eat, he wondered. Had she slept at all? Had Dib and Simon convinced her to do these things she needed to do? Because Kass knew May, and he knew what she was like when she hyper-fixated on something. It was like nothing else in the world mattered until the task was done.

With shaky steps, Kass got to his feet and clambered up the stairs. He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing until he had made it into his room, picked up his phone, and unlocked it.

In all honesty, Kass should have recognized he loved May when he had saved her favorite Chinese restaurant's phone number. Why else would he have done such a silly, simple thing?

He had finished the phone call by the time the water stopped running in the shower, and was leaning in his bedroom door frame when May finally stepped out of the bathroom. In the moments before she saw him, he looked over the clean, relaxed, clearly bone-tired figure. Yet, when she finally saw him, the fond crinkle in her eyelids was instantaneous. She smiled, and Kass watched a drop of water slide from behind her ear down the length of her neck, almost enraptured in it.

God, she was--

She was opening her mouth to speak, probably to greet him, but before she could get the words out Kass was wrapping his long arms around her and pulling May into his chest. He could feel the way it caught her off guard, before she relaxed against him.

They had held each other before, in couch cuddles and relaxed naps. She'd always been more than happy to touch and hold him, to give him the physical sensation he had been severely lacking for most of his life. This wasn't like those, not really. Kass held May against him in the kind of embrace he felt would, could, and should last for hours. His hands felt right where they were, not scrambling awkwardly to set themselves on her. He pressed his cheek against her temple, uncaring of the fact that her hair was damp and his new glasses were already smudged.

Like this, with one arm looped around her waist and his other hand pressed to the space between her shoulders, Kass could feel her breathing. Her own arms were slow to wrap around his torso, but when she held on, she held on, pulling him as flush to her as she could get him.

He realized, after a few long minutes, that she was shaking. May had begun to cry.

“I was so fucking scared,” she finally whispered, her face pressed into the side of his neck. Something in his chest cracked at the state of her voice. “I was so, so fucking scared, I thought I would get there and you'd be gone, I thought maybe I wouldn't feel it, I kept thinking is it too late, is he even still alive, god, god, Kass--”

Kass tightened his grip on her as she cried. His heart felt like it was in his knees, twisted and aching like hers had the moment the door to the office had slammed between them. He let her get all the words out of her system, let her get out the terror that had laced through her whole body for days with no outlet, because she couldn't cry, she had to focus, she had to save him first.

Her fingers had curled tight into the front of his shirt at some point. He looked at her snotty tear streaked face, the features all knotted up like someone had crumpled up and tossed aside a tissue, and his heart swelled and broke all over again.

“Don't,” May began in a weak, breathless voice, before starting again. “Don't you ever do that to me again,” she begged. “Please, don't go somewhere I can't get you, don't do that to me, please, promise--”

“Never again,” Kass promised, stroking her hair soothingly.

“Never,” she repeated, pushing back for just a moment so she could cup his face in her hands, trying to remind himself that he was here, real, whole. “Never ever, Kass.”

He sighed. Closed the distance between their faces, and pressed his forehead to hers. Their noses brushed each other's. “Never ever,” he repeated. “Never again.”

The promise filled the space between and around them, heavy. There was no certainty in what was to come, the world was flux, wild, full of ridiculous things like monsters and fae and rainbows and stars. It was an unpredictable place, where a person could be alone for years and years and suddenly of all things a bird could take them by the hand and give them a chance to live.

It was a strange place.

In this moment, and in many moments to come, they would stay. Constant, unceasing, and maybe shaky, they, the two of them, would stay.

-

Somewhere, several hundred miles away and several miles underground, Security Officer Jefferson Tyler was staring at his screen with the intensity of a person who believed that, if he blinked, even for a moment, the thing would vanish forever. It certainly could not be good for his eyes, especially in the darkness of the security footage room in which he and his senior officer Sable were currently combing through hours of film.

“Sir,” he said, then swallowed when he discovered his mouth was dry. “Sir.”

Sable pushed his chair away from the screen he had previously been only inches from, to roll it towards Tyler. “What, Tyler. What the fuck do you need, have you forgotten which button is the rewind key again?”

“Sir. Look.”

Sable looked. Then he rubbed one of his eyes hard with the heel of his palm, and looked again.

“Who the fuck is that.”

Tyler began to flip through camera recordings at a rapid pace, following the time stamps to a fraction of a second, tracking the two individuals caught on the tapes as they made their way to the northern waiting room. “Sir, I... I have a thought, but it might be, one of those very very stupid thoughts you hate.”

“No such thing as a stupid thought,” Sable said hoarsely, his voice empty with horror. “Out with it, Tyler.”

Tyler fidgeted. He was not exactly a new employee at the Foundation, but he had been in tech repair before, where voicing ideas to higher ups had far less consequences. Here, however, there were higher stakes than a malignant virus. One could probably understand his concern.

“I think, someone might have set up this entire breach, just to get a D-Class out.”

Sable looked at him, eyes red, bags deep.

“You're right,” he said. “That is a stupid thought.”

There was no venom in his voice in the slightest, and the silence that filled the space between the pair of SCP security officers was a deafening one, as the audacity of the absolutely correct concept sunk in.

Tyler swallowed. “Should we report this to the O-5, sir?”

His superior officer let out a choked laugh that held no humor. “Yes, sure, let's tell the O-5 we let someone just walk in and out of Site-17 with a D-Class. I think that will go very well, don't you, officer Tyler? Here, you write the report up and I'll sign it, and while I'm at it I'll sign both our resignation papers.”

“Um,” Tyler said. When he had gotten this promotion, three weeks back, he had expected to have it longer. “Or, uh, sir? We could, maybe, erase the tape, and argue it was corrupted.”

Sable was rubbing the bags under his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, as though attempting to force the bags back into his skin. When he looked up at Tyler, he smiled rather grimly. “What tape, security officer Tyler?”

A watery smile found its way onto Tyler's face as he turned back to the screen. “Very.... very good, sir. I'm certain everything will sort itself out, afterwards. I mean,” he continued, trying to sound cheery, “it's just a D-Class. Nobody worth worrying about.”

He realized, as he collected all the footage from the multiple tapes, that Sable was standing behind him, watching him work. It unsettled him deeply for reasons he couldn't imagine, but he dutifully continued to do his job.

“He was probably due for a mind wipe, in any ca—wait,” Sable said. “Stop. Stop. Go back. Pull in.”

Tyler pulled the camera tighter onto the intruder, and his superior swore. “No, you idiot, on the D-class!”

Hastily, he corrected the error, but if anything, it brought Sable more distress. He shoved Tyler's chair away from the screen, examining, and then swore again.

“Are you fucking KIDDING ME.”

“Sir?!” Panic laced through Tyler, and he clung tightly to his lanyard.

Sable looked back at him, eyes wide, pupils small pinpricks from the screen. His expression was that of a man who looked death in the face, lived, and wished he had not.

“She took Ex-agent Kass.”

Everything in Tyler's vision went very sharp, and his face felt very cold.

He had met the man in question all of twice for computer repairs. Those two meetings were two too many. He himself had bet Kass would last to day 12, when the betting pool went up.

He pulled his chair back in towards Sable with caution, to take a closer look. Sable was still swearing, hands pressed to his rapidly receding hairline.

“She took the fucking—we spent three years looking for that fucker and she walked out with him!”

“Oh my god,” Tyler confirmed. Whatever color had still been in his face drained as he looked over the man in the orange D-Class clothing on the screen. “I thought—sir, I'm sorry, I thought it was just a random--”

Sable made an angry vicious gesture at the screen, as though ready to slap it for the sheer audacity of displaying the footage it had recorded.

“This is exactly why I said it was a mistake to get rid of his hair!”

[TRANSMISSION ENDED. REPLAY? Y/N]

[takaraphoenix]

Shadowhunters Finale Review

...I can’t even summarize my thoughts properly right now because I am just so wildly exhausted and disappointed and frustrated, so here’s the unfiltered running commentary I made during the two-parter, sorted by characters and due to length beneath the cut:

On Jonathan:

Jonathan back at it again, killing flowers. ~puuure eeeviiil~ (Sorry. Still not over Jocelyn being a fucking dickhead who is ready to murder her son over one dead flower he killed as a toddler...)

...I just... I'm so tired of what they did with Jonathan? When they set him up as Sebastian Verlac, he seemed to layered, but this season, they are completely reducing him to the Incest Boi whose only motivation is “Clary doesn't love me enough!” and absolutely no one has even half a fuck to give about everything he has suffered...? Every abuse that is driving him and forged him...?

He could have been such a layered character. I'm not even talking redemption wise, to use the abuse to make him A Good Boi, but he could have been such an interesting villain, there could have been so much to him. This is stupid and sad.

But I am chocking on my laughter at the Seelie Queen literally teaching him WHAT HE COULDA BEEN TAUGHT FROM THE GET GO. To channel his powers. Granted, she channels them into killing Shadowhunters. But they could have been channeled into killing demons.

With the right parent, the right training, without living in hell and being tortured, he could have been an exceptional Shadowhunter. But let's pretend that he is Truly Inherently Evil only because of his demon blood and hey it's legit because he wants to bang his sister so who cares about this guy LOL.

HOLY SHIT THEY REALLY MADE CLARY MURDER HIM WITH A HUG. What a fucking way to go. I don't... I don't even know what to say to that to be honest.

On Clary:

WHAT THE FUCK HAS SHE DONE??

“How do I come back after everything I've done”. What. What line is that. That's the line they could have given Jace in the first episode of 3B. You know, the guy who saw his own body commit 30+ murders, among them the murder of his own grandmother.

What... What's that everything Clary has done? Dress hotter than usual? Go to a rave? Try some Seelie drugs? Sure she killed Lenaia, but that was also a chick she didn't even know and so far she's not been very traumatized by like – killing her own biological father (seriously, the writers never bothered to give her a genuine reaction to that). Way to be overdramatic, writers.

Shitty Ex Machina Rune's existence aside; WHY does the Ex Machina Rune work?? RUNES DON'T WORK ON DOWNWORLDERS. That was like a whole thing in season 1. They kill mundies and they don't work on Downworlders?? Why the fuck is Clary allowed to play – not just an angel but an actual god at this point.

(But y'all know I am going to use this shitty dumb stupid rune in so many fanfiction.)

...But like holy shit. It is so callous to have her say that she wouldn't trade the Shadow World for anything and that “and I met Jace” like he brought all light into her life when the Shadow World killed her mother. Have the writers just completely forgotten that a month ago she lost her mother, her only biological family left?? Ah but it's totally fine because she has Jace now!!! And even though we literally started the episode off with her being devastated and wondering how she will ever come back after everything she has done, they are now only half an hour later already forgetting that she has just gone through major trauma, that she murdered her own father, that she lost her mother? But oh the Shadow World is super awesome, wouldn't wanna trade those past two, utterly traumatizing months for anything!!! Not even for my mom being alive LOL! Just... do the writers even care about the characters? At all?

HOLY FUCKING GODS THEY REMEMBERED JOCELYN. FUCK THIS IS RIDICULOUS ESPECIALLY AFTER HER CONVERSATION WITH SIMON IN EDOM. I am baffled. But I am 100% behind Jocelyn's message because Clary has been a scary motherfucker all this season now with all the things she has done and the rule-breaking. Fuck yeah she shouldn't be allowed to play God, which she DOES at this point.

But like, on a scale of 1 to 10 how dumb did they have to make Clary? Out of all of the ways she could have killed Jonathan, they decided “Nah man she is totally giving up her Shadowhunter self to hug her brother to death” instead of having Miss Stabby-Stab-Stab pull out a dagger and stab him to death? She literallly just got the warning and decides “LOL nope this is how I go out”. What---

There is a huge difference between a character sacrificing themselves for the greater good because there was 100% no other way and a character somehow turning a completely manageable situation into a self-sacrifice that is completely unnecessary... She could have just stabbed him. Or, you know, captured him with a trick instead of murdering. She could have stayed a Shadowhunter without using the Deus Ex Machina runes, living like a normal Shadowhunter. But they really made her go “If I can't play god, I'd rather give up the Shadow World”.

What the fuck even was that “One Year Later”. They literally just wasted a whole year since C/ace reuniting had zero negative effect on her? She didn't combust or anything. They could have literally went after her the day of the wedding, explained amnesia to her and brought her back. But the writers had to be dramatic bitches that put Jace through hell again, huh.

And what exactly did she believe happened? Like, Jocelyn and Luke and Simon?? Basically everyone she ever knew? What did she think happened to them and to herself? She just decided to go back to art school or what? Did they even think about this ending?

Honestly. It'd have been better had they actually Donna Nobled her and said she can never remember and has to be a mundie. But this? This year gap and bullshit and C/ace looking at each other and she suddenly remembers his name because True Love Wins? That makes it even dumber.

On Jace & Meliorn: (I'm trying to give each character their own for the finale, but... I can't separate those two in this case)

THAT STARTLED LITTLE BACKING OFF JACE DOES WHEN MELIORN TAKES IT TO THE BEDROOM. If that wasn't a coming on from Meliorn, I don't know what is. I am definitely living for this little bit of Jeliorn because that was a ship I was sure I'd never get to see proper interactions of. So, small blessings.

Hng. Jace can't lie. How pretty. Seriously his bond with Meliorn is like the saving grace from all of this. And how much fun Meliorn is having with this. Oh my gods my shipper heart is soaring.

SERIOUSLY I AM LIVING FOR THIS. “A serious question. How handsome do you think I am?” WHY WOULD YOU EVEN ASK THAT. Because you want to let my shipper-heart beat some. Thank you, Meliorn, personally, for my life. (Not to mention the answer. A NINE?? Jace. You so pansexual and into handsome Downworlders. It's canon now and I am blessed.)

I'm just absolutely living for Jace getting to interact with a non-Clary and a non-Alec (especially since all of his Alec-interactions this half-season have only been about Ma/ec...). It's... so refreshing to see them use Jace as... a character... instead of a prop. Even if he's played as a comic relief, I am taking so much more from this.

(ALSO: Jimon sparring! Jimon sparring and JACE BOOPING SIMON'S NOSE WHAT THE FUCK.)

On Alec:

What's with Maryse telling him to “take time to mourn”? What the fuck is that? XD He has literally been in Edom and gone back too. There's always been ways in and out. You're sure fast to bury him.

But also, maybe Alec should focus on the way to bring Magnus back instead of planning this fucking stupid wedding. You'd need your groom first.

Tonight. They're literally... I am weeping at how stupid this is. They got engaged yesterday and are getting married today. I had... actual, dumb hopes that the wedding would happen after a time skip. But I forgot this show doesn't know what time is. Ahahaha. Hilarious.

But holy shit am I angry about him being all dodgy and asking Maryse's permission to invite his own father to his wedding. Like. I am very rationally angry about the fact that all the kids sided with their abusive mother over their father, but that they are really all just treating him like that now is insane. Sure, he cheated on their mother, but he is still their father?? He has still been their father and he has been the good parent. If you can forgive Maryse's abuse just like that, how do you hold Robert cheating on Maryse over him like that? This is absolutely insane. What kind of priorities do those writers have to fuck it up this badly? Like the “oh no dad cheated on you let us all comfort you and totally forget the shitty way you have been treating your children!!!” wasn't bad enough on its own, but that they are completely acting like Robert was not just the cheating husband but somehow also the bad parent now? If this is where the show wanted to end it, they should have from the get-go also written him as the bad parent and her as the good parent, then I'd understand this, I'd understand the taking sides thing, the way they all completely turned away from Robert, the way Maryse blossomed and turned into an entirely different character. That ALL would make sense IF they hadn't decided in the first season and in 2B to write Robert as the warm rather and Maryse as the cold and abusive mother. The starting points and end points don't match.

On Magnus:

Magnus. On that throne. In that light. Now that's a look, to be honest.

Also, awkward conversations with the stepmother are very amusing. :D” (But, honestly, Anna and Harry playing off each other is really great. They play the power-dynamic really fascinating.)

Magnus being like “Well no need to close the door if we burn down the place right?” is a mood. It's so stupid and ridiculous, but like it's right. XD”

I'm glad Magnus at least said thank you to Lorenzo and even invited him to the wedding.

I genuinely don't know how to react to “High Warlock of Alicante” to be honest. Like. I don'T know what to say to that.

On Maia:

...I'd like to live in the alternate reality where Maia was more than just her relationships to boys. I'm still let down by the fact that the one (1) badass shot she got in the trailer was literally her walking away from Jordan's funeral fire, with her other ex and her future boyfriend flanking her from either side. If that doesn't summarize this show, I don't know what does.

And while I admire her decision to reconnect with her parents, it also seems rather messed up considering she literally just decided to be The Alpha. So let's leave the pack that has suffered so many recent losses... all alone. That's... not exactly Alpha behavior, even if it is the right thing for her as an individual at that point.

I mean like yeah sure she came back to become an Alpha, but still it's—a weird choice.

BAT BAT EXISTS BAT IS THERE I LOVE BAT HE GOT TO SPEAK. I am so so salty that he didn't get developed properly, that his relationship with Maia didn't get fully fleshed out.

On Isabelle & Simon:

Isabelle as the Human Torch is sure a very nice visual, to be honest.

(ALSO HELEN! HELEN! HELEN! I am 200% sure I can ship Aline/Helen/Isabelle in peace now. Don't @ me.) Though explain to me why Helen doesn't get the fuck away from Isabelle ASAP after realizing that Downworlders turn Isabelle into basically a bomb? I mean, she is half-Seelie.

...and can everyone maybe focus on “Izzy now catches fire when she is touching Downworlders” instead of “SHE WAS KISSING SIMON!!!”...? Like, priorities, dudes?

And how did she conclude “I explore when I touch demon blood. I should totally go to Edom! The place where demons live!”... and act like that should totally “”shield”” her from the atmosphere? What... logic goes into that? I'm serious, someone explain to me why “I explode when I come in contact with demonic stuff” leads to “but I'ma be extra safe in hell where all demonic things live and the very atmosphere should be demonic!!!”...

And Simon and Isabelle... kiss once... like... literally once and the next time they get a moment of being shown alone they literally already fucked. This show... knows that... you can actually go on dates and have a relationship with... oh no never mind this show has never heard the word “pacing” before I forgot sorry LOL

On Luke:

...But like why did his runes return though. I mean, getting turned into a Downworlder like... burned the runes away. They were gone. Why would him no longer being a Downworlder also immediately reapply all of his runes.

I don't know if I really like this, to be quite honest. I don't feel like we know enough about Luke for me to know what to feel about this? Like, he said he didn't want to be alpha and he's been turned against his will sure, but he's been a wolf for like 20 years now. It's... I don't know what to feel on this. Like, he seems really happy about this, but it also feels incredibly cheap due to the show never actually focusing on his thoughts and feelings??

Okay no now that I'm through with it I actually actively hate it. He should have become mundie. Erase it all. Let him live a mundie life with Clary.

On Lorenzo:

I love how Lorenzo brings up the Downworld Council. SOMETHING I HAVE BEEN WONDERING ABOUT TOO. What the fuck happened to that. But nope, SoRrY Lorenzo you are just here to save Magnus. Again. (Others too, but still. It's once again for selfish reasons of helping the Shadowhunters with shit.)

I really like where they took his character. I thought he was just going to be a shallow prop to take Magnus down. Petty and empty. But that they actually give him growth and personality and a personal goal and that they also made him rekindle with Magnus after admitting what he truly wants? That was... actually good. That was more than I ever expected from those writers. Huh.

ALSO FUCK ME I AM 100% BEHIND LORENZO/UNDERHILL.

On Max:

MAAAAX!!! MAX WITH GLASSES! MAX BEING PRECIOUS! He is literally the only thing about episode 22 that I liked. Like that entire final episode was a fucking shit-show.

On Raphael:

Honestly at this point just fuck this show. It is his father’s wedding and he is a mundane. But let’s just have him interact with his ex and her new guy so he can give them his blessing instead of having him actually interact with Magnus.

[jbuffyangel]

Weekly Rundown 10/21/18-10/26/18

Time to rundown what I’m watching, loving, hating and everything in between! Spoilers ahead! Full episode reviews and reactions are linked in the titles.

Daredevil Season 3

Just so y’all know - most nuns do not wear their habits in public anymore. It’s been that way since Vatican II, but TV refuses to catch up.

The action is amaaaaazing again. I love how Matt actually gets tired when he’s fighting.

I don’t want Matt to put that ugly Daredevil suit on again he looks ridiculous. Keep the black mask and call it a day.

I want Foggy to propose very badly. I need a Foggy wedding in Season 4.

Is there any particular reason why Karen didn’t haul ass to Frank’s Punisher lair when her life was in danger and Matty Mcbrown eyes was off Daredeviling an existential crisis? That’s where I’d go.

Matt refusing to ask the other Defenders help because “it’s not their fight” is the stupidest reason ever.

Arrow (“The Longbow Hunters”)

It is a bit creepy when Stan says, “I bet a guy like that would do anything to keep his family safe.” Maybe Stan is a nuthouse, but leave me to my dream for now.

Is it me or did Yorke look older than 40? 1978????

Deputy Director Bell is evil. Calling it now.

The Longbow Hunters don’t actually use bows. This is a twist I did not see coming.

Bl*ck S*ren can’t lawyer worth a damn, but she can wear a suit.

“Stay behind me.” That was oddly hot Rene. I’m wildly uncomfortable that I find you attractive right now, but it is what it is.

Rene: Been back in town a week and you’re already sneaking out of A.R.G.U.S. behind Papa Dig’s back? I’m so proud.

Felicity: Thanks man.

This whole exchange was delightful and not remotely derogatory like “Blondie.” THY NAME IS CHARACTER GROWTH.

“Grab your balls Curtis, we’re going in.” If the Rene character only exists to say this one line of dialogue then it was worth it.

Why didn’t BS and Dinah go after the Longbow Hunter? What is up with allowing all these criminals to run away at a moderately brisk pace and our people acting like they can’t catch them? They are called legs! Move your ass!  

BITCH YOU BETTER NOT STEP ON THAT PHOTO!!!!!!!

Legends of Tomorrow  (“The Virgin Gary”)

Legends Season 4 premiere is fantastic and full of all the hi-jinks I’ve missed over hiatus.

“Speaking of the same old crap isn’t that what he did last year?”Legends gets points for acknowledging that Wally gets the storyline shaft a lot.

When you are officially a hero the time bureau gives you a medal, but I was more excited about the balloons.

It would be super weird if the Legends spent more than a day in 2018.

Remember when Oliver asked Sara to move in with him and she went running screaming in the other direction? It all worked out because Sara knew he was really in love with Felicity. I’m just saying she’s come a looooong way.

I want to be clear about one thing and it’s not up for debate. Ready? The best thing about Legends is Mick. It’s always Mick. That is all.

OMG NATE’S FATHER IS BIFF FROM BACK TO THE FUTURE?????!!!!!!!! THIS IS SPECTACULAR CASTING!!!

Manifest “Connecting Flights”

It was nice to fill in the back story of the characters left behind after the plane went missing, however the show is starting to lose my attention. I need more movement on these character relationships. Manifest is hitting a lot of the same notes week after week.

This Is Us (“Toby”)

Randall is going ahead with the city council job? Are they independently wealthy Does no one have to work?

Baby Toby is the cutest.

Holy crap is this how in vitro really works? It’s so friggin expensive and no guarantees. Wow, my sympathies to all those who have gone through this excruciating process.

Randall unbuttoning his shirt is all the reason I need to vote for him. Done deal. 

Toby used his wonderful sense of humor to cheer up his depressed Mom. Ugh my heart.

But for real though sometimes you need just “one damn day.” #MomLife

Three hours to get ready Kate? Just as an FYI - that’s all over when you have a baby. You’ll be lucky to get a shower.

Miguel carried a piano up stairs to cheer Rebecca up. That’s love.

“There’s so much of her in you it scares me.” THAT IS NOT SOMETHING YOU SAY TO YOUR CHILD ASSHOLE.

A+ on the prom dresses. Absolutely what I wore in high school. We were fashionista slaves in the late nineties.

Kate’s impression of Adele is dead on.

Miguel tries so hard. He’s just trying to keep his promise to Jack.

Rebecca is such an amazing mom. Kate doesn’t give her nearly enough credit.

KATE IS PREGNANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Rookie (Pilot” and “Crash Course”)

I really loved The Rookie. I typically don’t hate procedurals, but this one has surprised me thus far. It’s fast paced, so it held my attention more. I hope it stays that way. 

I love how it is the rookies versus the training officers. It fills my Rookie Blue void.

I am not invested in any ships yet. I am not buying the romance between Nolan and Lucy so far. I actually think Lucy has more chemistry with Bradford and Nolan with the Captain.

A Million Little Things (“Friday Night Dinner” and “The Game of Your Life”)

I want to love this show, but they are making it next to impossible. I hate cheating storylines in any show. It’s one of the main reasons I quit watching Shonda Rhimes’ shows because she is unable to write one without including adultery. Arrow’s original love story revolved around cheating and was an absolute mess. It feels like a lazy way to inject drama. This cheating storyline between Eddie and Delilah is making two characters who are otherwise very likable extremely unlikable. 

Instead of jettisoning this plot into the atmosphere where it belongs and never speaking of it again, A Million Little Things is double down on it.  Delilah is pregnant! Oh wonderful, now we get to play “Who’s the Daddy?” for several weeks.

Apparently, the writers come from The Fl*sh school of writing. Characters can only be mad at other characters for one episode. All the friends found out about Eddie and Delilah’s affair and the very next week they are sitting down to pizza. It’s at Delilah’s house and Eddie’s wife Katherine comes too because FRIENDS. No. Just no.

Instead of being angry at Eddie and Delilah, the friends make excuses for them. Regina’s conversation with Delilah turned into a huge “I didn’t see your pain” apology, which is flat out ridiculous. What Delilah did was so off the charts wrong there is no excuse for it. If you are in pain see a therapist. It’s not an excuse to cheat on your husband. Also, Regina you are not to blame for Delilah lying to everyone for over two years. 

Gary, who has been the angriest, decides he’s being too hard on Eddie (ya know by actually holding him accountable for his actions) and lets Eddie move in with him after his wife finally kicked him out. Are you freaking kidding me with this? I was already mildly irked at Gary for giving Delilah a free pass, but I understood his reasoning because her husband just jumped off a building. She has been punished quite a lot. But Eddie? I think we could muster a couple episodes of anger towards Eddie.

The writers attempted drum up sympathy for Delilah by shining a little light on her seemingly perfect marriage with Jon. It’s not really perfect, but what marriage is? Jon was short with Delilah during a family dinner. He took a phone call from work and snapped, “Everything I do is for this family.” What a bastard. Of course, that is reason enough for Delilah to jump into bed with Eddie, her husband’s best friend. GIVE. ME. A. FRIGGIN. BREAK. If my husband slept with someone else every time I was cranky with him, he’d have a harem.

So, on top of being suicide apologists, the writers are adding cheating apologists. There is no reason to cheat. It’s just mean. Nobody has put a gun to your head. If you want out of your marriage you march to an attorney’s office and file for divorce. Not sure if you want a divorce? Then go to counseling. But cheating, under any circumstances, is wrong. It’s cruel and selfish. It’s trying to have your cake and eat it too. A Million Little Things trying to excuse away Eddie and Delilah’s heinous behavior is almost as bad as the cheating itself. Trying to make suicide and cheating okay with excuses is dangerous behavior. I AM NOT A FAN.

Stray Thought - on what planet is a school program presented in the middle of the freaking day? What kind of ridiculous school do Eddie and Katherine send their son to?

Blindspot (“The Quantico Affair”) 

Zapata has a very interesting running stride. Sorry I was in cross country. That stuff interests me

Roman saying "He knows. This is it. Kill him" underscores the dramatic tension.

I’m gonna need someone on Team Blindspot to pick up on Remi's side eye. Y'all are FBI agents for goodness sake.

I don't actually know what Patterson's name is, but I feel confident it is not Lisa.

I think Martin Gero saw me write "Where is Patterson's storyline?" in my last review. I could have opted for patience, but complaining loudly via written word felt like a better plan. 

Hey watch the condemnation Remi aka Jane aka double secret agent who told so many lies I can't keep it straight anymore.

OMG Rich not explaining how the tattoo was solved is the best thing ever. PLEASE DO THIS EVERY WEEK

I wanna talk about the Book of Secrets mostly because Rich calls it the Book of Secrets.

Hahaha. Her one night stand showed up at work. This is how Meredith and McDreamy began. I highly recommend elevator scenes too.

One night stand boy is Weitz's nephew. IT. JUST. GOT. BETTER

Sure Madeline come on in and check out our super secret tattoo murder board.

"Thundercats ho!" OMG was that an ad lib?

Totally ship Patterson and this dude. I should probably learn his name.

Somebody tell Rich about the one night stand. Pleeeeeeeease.

I'm not calling him Lincoln. He shall be known as "Slab of Man-Ham" forevermore.

Patterson and Rich are the perfect work wife/husband team. Remember Rich is the work wife

How does Weitz maintain employment? This may be the greatest of all Blindspot's mysteries.

Of course "Jane" and Weller are on the train Weitz. IT'S THEIR JOB. Seriously someone get this dude a DVD of #Blindspot S1-S3

Patterson girl, Jane is never that cranky with you when she's diffusing bombs. SOMEBODY NOTICE PERSONALITY CHANGES PLEASE!!!

"You're new here." ALL KNEEL TO PATTERSON.