#I've been wanting to articulate this for a while

[gold-onthe-inside]

gingerbread kisses

who? spencer reid (s4) x bau!reader

summary: your first christmas as a couple with spencer involves baking, construction, and lots and lots of kisses

word count: 1.9k

content warnings: oral (f receiving), spencer calls r 'sweet girl', minors dni

"Yours looks so much better than mine," you whined, looking over at Spencer's gingerbread house, perfectly cut panels holding together to form a house while yours sagged at an angle.

"It's not that bad," he replied, if only to make you feel better and shifted closer to see if he could fix the angle of it, and you peered over his shoulder, watching his nimble fingers carefully adjust the panels, reapplying icing like it was glue. "There," Spencer said, pulling his hands away... and then it sagged lower and he frowned at it, puzzled, and you stifled a giggle against his shoulder at his utter confusion. Your nose pressed into his soft woollen sweater, arms wrapping around him. "Maybe if I--"

"Just leave it," you told him, kissing his cheek, your lip balm sticky against his warm skin. Even now, 6 months into dating, his cheeks flushed at your kiss, and he looked down at you, chasing your lips, his hands finding your cheeks, fingers equally sticky with icing. It was always so earnest, filled with as much longing as the first time you'd kissed him. He doesn’t want to let go when he pulls away, but then there's a streak of icing on your cheek and he can't help a wince.

"Sorry," he said, oblivious to your dazed look, moving to wipe his hands and you let out another soft groan of protest at the loss of him, only for him to come back to gently wipe your cheeks clean. "Can I tell you something?" he asked, looking at you intently.

"Always," you replied with your sweet smile and adoring gaze.

"This is the best Christmas I've ever had," he said, putting the cloth away, and you wished you could express how much you loved him in this moment, but you've never been as articulate with your affection as him. So you do what you know best; you tugged him closer, kissing him. You could live in this moment forever, his lips on yours, sitting on the floor of your apartment. Spencer pressed you back against the couch, his hands seeking your jaw, his tongue darting to your lower lip. He's always careful with you, slow and thoughtful, his thumb gently angling your chin higher.

You parted your lips, his tongue languidly exploring your mouth. His hand carefully slid down your neck, his thumb finding your pulse and he broke for breath, placing warm gentle kisses along your soft jaw. "My sweet girl," he murmured, reaching your ear. "I could do this forever."

Your heart fluttered the way it always did. He’d called you his since the beginning, sweet girl. He’d say it often, a gentle declaration of his affection. His hand slid down, thumb tracing the collar of your sweater, his face buried in your neck as he left his own mark on you, teeth grazing gently against the soft skin and your breath hitched. “God, Spence…” He felt you shift underneath him, already overwhelmed by his touch. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging a little when he mouthed at your neck. One of his hands rests on your hip, his thumb brushing the skin under your sweater.

He couldn’t help himself. You felt so warm and soft, so lovely wrapped in his arms. He pushed your sweater up gently, baring more of your skin, his touch warm, and light. He could spend hours just tracing his fingers across your skin. You tasted sweet, like sugar and vanilla, and he shifted, adjusting to slide between your legs. You tilted your head back, looking up at him, your eyes slightly unfocused, lips parted with your heavy breaths. His head dipped, mouth leaving marks along your neck as he pushed your sweater up again, just over your ribs, your breath stuttering as his teeth grazed over the sensitive skin. Your hand fisted in his sweater, a needy whisper escaping you, "Spencer..."

"Let me take care of you," he murmured against your shoulder, pushing your sweater high enough for you to wordlessly lift your arms so he could toss it to one side, and he needed to catch his breath as he looked down at you. He’d seen you a hundred times before, all those soft smooth curves, your soft sighs and breathless gasps that he lived for. You were so trusting in his arms, the way your fingers threaded through his hair, your back arching when his mouth found your stomach, kissing reverently at your soft skin. “So perfect,” he murmured.

You don't have the brainpower to spare to respond with anything other than his name, said so many times that it should have lost its meaning by now, but it never does. The way it came out all breathless and needy, desperate and reverent, the way you’d call his name as he pressed you into the couch, body over yours, pinning you in place as his mouth found your skin, tracing a path along your hip. You pulled uselessly at his sweater, biting your lower lip. “So impatient, my sweet girl,” he murmured, and your whine sent a spark straight through him.

"Want to see you, angel," you pleaded and he couldn’t deny you, even if he wanted to, not when your hands already reached to push under his sweater, your hands warm on his skin and he pulled back, pulling the offending garment off completely. You smiled, looking at him fondly. "Much better," you murmured, shifting up to kiss him again, your warm lips meeting his.

He met you readily, pressing you down again, his body covering yours, a warm comfortable weight. He could never get enough of how you fit against him, the feel of your soft skin against his fingers, the way your mouth moved against him, sweet and willing. The way your legs moved to wrap around him. "Okay if I take this off?" he whispered, hands finding the waistband of your pyjama pants, beige with little cookies printed over them, hot breath fanning over your face, eyes watching you as you nod. He slid the soft material down your legs, leaving you bare before him. It was a view he loved, all your bare skin, all his to touch and explore.

Your breath hitched as his hands gently nudged your thighs further apart, and he slowly sank onto his knees between them. You let out a small groan involuntarily, just at the sight of him between your thighs. "Angel..."

He shushed you gently, fingers tracing circles on your thighs, so close to where you wanted him. His eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail, your breathing and the way your legs twitched. “Just relax, my sweet girl,” he murmured, his thumbs rubbing soothing strokes across your skin.

"You're not making it easy," you muttered back.

He couldn’t help the smile at your comment, his hands slowly shifting your legs, lifting them to pull off your panties, and he could feel the way your breath caught, your body shifting slightly to help. He was so close to you he could practically feel your heat against his face. He was still gently running his fingers over the skin of your thighs, trying to keep you calm. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, voice impossibly soft.

His warm breath against you made your head spin, and you were too lost in the feel of his hands and mouth to do anything but gasp his name and tilt your head back. You were so wet, so needy for him, and you couldn’t help the way your legs shifted, pleading for more. He gently nudged at them, spreading you open further for him. He looked up at you, eyes dark with desire, the sight of you underneath him, leaning back against the foot of the couch, your chest heaving and your body tense, just for him.

He leaned in, and he didn’t miss the way your body jolted when his tongue licked over you, and he hummed against your skin. You tasted so sweet, so perfect, and he was slowly getting addicted to the taste, his hands holding your thighs in place as he slowly explored you. He’d wanted to make you fall apart, the way you’d done so many times for him, bringing him to the knife’s edge before pulling him over. But he couldn’t wait long, and he pushed forward, his tongue circling before he suddenly thrust forward, tasting as much of you as he could.

The effect was instant, and he felt you jerk against him, your gasp turning into a long moan. The sound made his hands squeeze at your thighs, wanting you closer. You were always so responsive to him, so sensitive, and you were already on edge from his light teasing. He loved the sounds you made, all those soft noises that you seemed unable to help when he was like this. He loved the way your skin felt under his hands, the way you would pull and tug at his hair when he was teasing you. He loved the way you felt, warm and soft all around him. He loved you, and he wanted you to fall apart. He was almost relentless, tongue working over you, delving into you, wanting you to come completely undone.

He didn’t want to pull away, wanted to keep going, to take you as close as he could, but you were already teetering on the edge, so close to climax. He loved how responsive you were, how he could pull those sweet moans and gasps so easily from you with just a few caresses. He wanted to see you come, wanted to feel your body shaking against him. He pulled back for a second, breathless, his voice already wrecked from how sweet you sounded, “Come for me, my sweet girl."

Your fingers scrabbled for his hair, needing something to hold onto as he brought you through your climax, his tongue not leaving you until you were begging him to stop, your body sensitive and overwhelmed. He let his hands gently trail across your thighs as you fell back onto the couch, boneless and still quivering. He couldn’t help a little smile at how wrecked you looked, your hair falling over your eyes, your body trembling. And yet you still looked beautiful, your bare body on display for him, your skin flush and warm. He shifted forward, his lips gently kissing your stomach and travelling up your body, until he laid down on top of you, his weight carefully resting between your legs, his head buried in your neck.

"I love you," you whispered, holding him, your fingers trailing over his back.

He lifted his head at your words, still so touched by your sweetness. After all this time, you still managed to surprise him. He shifted, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at you, his gaze soft and adoring. “I love you more,” he murmured, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair out of your eyes, fingers tracing the line of your jaw.

"Not possible," you murmured.

He smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Agree to disagree,” he teased, his hand gently caressing your hair, fingers carding through the messy strands. He liked you like this; soft and pliable in his arms, your body still trembling from your orgasm. His fingers traced down the side of your face, before his knuckles grazed gently over your collarbone, tracing the line of your shoulder.

"You were right," you murmured, looking at him. "Best Christmas ever. Even if I can't build a gingerbread house for the life of me."

He looked at the wreckage of the house, then back to you, hiding a smile. “You’re good at a lot of things, sweetheart, but decorating is just not your strong suit,” he teased and you huffed and shoved at his shoulder in mock offence. He just pulled you on top of him, kissing you deeply all over again.

[lucifermorningstxr]

"Right. Of course, Detective." Lucifer knew that everything he was telling Chloe was a lot to process, and even with his honesty from day one, he'd never actually been so involved in describing all of it out loud to a human who didn't think he was speaking in metaphors. While being fully himself and accepted for it with her was a beautiful thing, it was still new to him, and he was just trying his best to articulate the craziness that was his existence, some of which he was processing himself in real time. Besides, after everything they'd been through today alone, the last thing the Devil wanted was to break his human's beautiful brain, so it was well enough to wait until they'd recharged before continuing this particular conversation. Instead, Lucifer just nodded, smiled, and laid his head in the crook of Chloe's neck, burrowing himself into her ever so slightly. If he couldn't make a move of sexuality, at least he could make one of affectionate intimacy. Hopefully, if all continued as it was with no more interference, perhaps the partners could stay on track this time and finally be something more. At least a Devil could dream, and that was his truest desire, after all.

With his head raised once more, Lucifer couldn't help but laugh at Chloe's remark, although he did appreciate and reciprocate the sentiment of course. "To think I've went eons all closed up, and then someone comes along and makes me vulnerable. I suppose it comes with the territory." He smirked, rubbing her cheek. "I do know that, Detective. We wouldn't keep finding our way back if it wasn't the honest truth." Was that a sappy line? Sure, but a monologue it was not, and it was in fact the truth. "Partners 'ti the end, right?"

And maybe more, he thought. Hopefully more, Dad willing.

"Because I killed a human, Detective. Angels can't take a mortal life. Dad's rules. And even though Pierce, Cain, was cursed with immortality, he was still effectively human." Lucifer spoke with a factual vulnerability, the honesty he always possessed present as ever as his true guilt about all of it was worn clear as day on his sleeve, or rather on his face. Nonetheless, he smiled into Chloe's touch all the same. She was right, his actions had saved her, and he'd do it again and again, all for her. "I know, Detective. And you're right. The funny thing is," he softly adjusted himself on top of her, "there was a while there he wanted me to kill him. To end his endless punishment. To spite dear old Dad and all that. But when it came time to actually finish him off, all to protect you, I still made myself a monster. Even so, through it all, if there's one thing I'm never guilty about, it's protecting you. Doing anything to protect you. Because you deserve it, Detective." Lucifer had lost track of how many times he'd resisted the urge to kiss Chloe tonight alone, but this moment was one of them. Thinking back on everything theyve been through, all that they've overcome, and all the bad guys they've bested together, it all made him a sentimental Devil, one craving affection with his human. But that would all have to wait, so he'd just ease himself more onto her. "You shouldn't have had a problem putting down Malcolm after everything he'd done. I didn't think I had any issue putting down Pierce, Dr. Martin and I have discussed that perhaps I even liked it... but I suppose I still felt like a monster anyway. Whatever the case, if the worse thing that happens is I give myself my face back, it's a small price to pay for saving you. Something I truly have no regrets about whatsoever, all else be damned. Even me."

[scrawlingskribbles]

honestly tho Drupe's slow-burn character glow-up over the course of the show was So Good actually

[wreckedhoney]

it might be the hormones talking but i am like in some throes of discouragement

[lazylama9]

You know, sometimes I feel like I don't have an opinion in some very important topics anymore. Cuz there are so many people who say stuff on internet and it's so polarizing. I don't know what of it is true or sometimes if it's okay or too radical. And it's so frustrating for me... Maybe it's a part of life but it's like I can't decide whether I am basically a good person in my mind. Like if my opinions are based on true facts or it's just some lies and biases that I grew up with and believe in only because of that. It's very confusing for me...

[iamnotlookingidonotseeit]

sometimes I tell my parents things. often then i wonder why i even open my mouth. but when I keep it light I end up wondering why I can't seem to connect on any real kind of level. and I add another thing to the list for therapy

[boopboops22]

[blizzardfluffykpop]

my brain just finally registered that it's early summer - and being a creature of habit, decided to get a few specific songs stuck in my head

(this time of year is always my favorite when it comes to releases for K-pop because the brighter happy vibe is the thing that I lean towards the most when it comes to the genre lol)

All of that being said, I currently have Touch My Body by Sistar, Red Flavor by Red Velvet, and Dance The Night Away by Twice, all stuck in my head right now 💞

Do you have any songs that are your favorite for summertime? And do you have any songs currently stuck in your head right now?

I hope that you have a great day and pretty please take care

It is early summer~ I tend to get specific songs stuck in my head during this time too! I'm a creature of habit too~ (I love this time of year for that! They always become brighter and happier this time of year and it's so refreshing! I hope there will be lots of cbs to enjoy with that exact vibe 🥰💖) [Below is me endlessly rambling on about all my favorite summer songs... I could go on... summer songs are elite esp in kpop]

I love those songs! They're so perfectly summer in my heart! A summer playlist wouldn't be complete without them! To start simply before diving fully in: Candy Sugar Pop by Astro is just an essential to me!

Here's a deeper dive :) of my favorites for summertime:

I've been innnnnnn loveeee with Let It Be Summer by Young K- it really makes me excited for summer as a whole right now! Newton, Tropical Night, and Livin' It Up by Monsta X, Naughty Boy and Shine by Pentagon (side note: ptg has soooo many summer bangers), Lip Gloss, and Passion Fruit by The Boyz (honestly this whole album: Christmas In August) as well as their recent title track Nectar. Even before I was into tbz I'd always listen to D.D.D and Thrill Ride- they're just so good for summer! Die For Love by B.I, Love Scenario by iKon, and ofc Really Really by Winner and Drawing The Line by Royal Pirates. But since Oh My! by Seventeen came out on my birthday when I turned 17- I must include it- Svt truly has many good summer songs esp off you make my day! I always listen to that cd in the summer~

Now I know it's supposed to be kpop songs I'm supposed to talk about it- but it wouldn't be summer for me without the beach boys! If Surfin' Safari, Little Deuce Coupe, and Fun, Fun, Fun are just my essential getting into the mood of summer songs- I grew up listening to them and even went to see & meet them as a kiddo- they're forever my summer sounds. But continuing on that train of thought: Hot Tonight by Tokyo Police Club, Let's Live for Today by The Grass Roots, Summer in the City by The Lovin' Spoonful! (Who i'm gonna see later this year~)! Would also be my nonkpop essential summer songs!

(I realize I could go on... I love summer kpop songs and summer songs in general sm... truly such bangers come out during the summer) I'll just make a playlist about this because I realized I only have two and they aren't happy summer pop- *they're titled* 'Beach Sadness' & 'They Won't Turn On The AC' and neither have a kpop song in sight 😔 I will be changing that- And I mean I have a sleeeewwwwww of songs I didn't mention :)

ANYWAYS: I made one~ Soda Summer Pop : of just my personal summer kpop hits :)

[Honorary mention to the cd that ended up getting messed up in the cd jack because it was so hot in the car three summers ago: Your Choice by Svt- you'll always have a special place in my heart for summertime tunes *I was thankful my friend bought me another for my birthday that year 😂🤭*]

[danieyells]

@yuri-is-online @jadeleechsupportgroup

Taiga, Romeo, and Gluttony

NOTE: This post contains spoilers for the entirety of the recently released Auction chapter. Read at your own risk.

So the recent chapter was everything to me. It was the shortest, but in my opinion it showed us a lot about Taiga and Romeo and their relationship to one another, and it also helped me refine a specific thought I had about Taiga and his whole deal he has going on.

To put it shortly; I think Taiga has a gluttony curse, and I think it functions as a mirror to that of Romeo's stigma, and is part of why they had a falling out, and why they can't seem to get away from each other.

To put it horrifically, horribly long....

So what do I mean when I say Taiga is cursed? Well, exactly that. I believe he's cursed in a similar way Rui or the MC are; he has an insatiable need to eat anomalies. I believe that this grants certain side effects like the MC and Rui's curse, and that one of them is a sixth sense for anomalies and anomalous circumstances.

I want to explain this before the Romeo part, because it's the basis for my analysis and thoughts on the two of them.

To start from the very beginning; I think Taiga, during one of his missions, was cursed by something like a jikininki as punishment for his 'gluttony' — the rapid rate at which he completed missions in his first year. This left him with his insatiable need to eat anomalies, but more specifically, is the reason he doesn't seem to want to eat them.

While I'm not certain the anomaly is for certain a jikininki, especially because there's certainly other similar folk legends out there, I chose that one specifically because they are noted for their sharp teeth and for not liking the insatiable need to eat corpses.

Now, what does this mean for Taiga? I think he's stuck between being a ghoul and being a jikininki, or whatever anomaly it ends up being, and I think this has given him a sixth sense that messes with his perception of time, self, and memory. But why would it do that?

Jikininki are immortal creatures, and wish to be freed from the torment they're in for the most part. If one was cursed to be part Jikininki, it would make sense for their existence to be similarly excruciating, with a difference being a lack of full immortality.

Remember the Mortkranken chapter, with the failed mermaid flesh? How their bodies continued even as their minds didn't? Taiga has multiple lines detailing how his 'body' remembers, even if his mind doesn't. Yuri and Jiro also explain that part of the side effects of the reaction are rapid mental deterioration. If Taiga had gone through a similar deterioration, it would explain his seemingly sporadic memory loss (not total blackouts like Jiro, nor specific category based amnesia either, just like. Random shit) and the fact that he doesn't have a concrete sense of identity (showcased through his constantly shifting first-person pronoun choice in Japanese). His cells of his body are reverting to their pre-aged self, and his mind is attempting to do that too, but it's imperfect and messy.

The key to the idea of the sixth sense comes from the fact that he's specifically cursed for anomalous gluttony. I think that he can sense anomalous material or anomalies themselves, and as demonstrated from Ed, this includes some sort of future sense. While we don't know the full specifics of what a sixth sense grants, we can see him utilise it in multiple different places. It's also, in my opinion, why he was sent on the Prologue mission.

Some examples of his supposed sixth sense are how he intuitively understood the anomalous dealer's entire thing, the scenes where he knows the Like Dove will appear before it does, when he senses Romeo approaching (Romeo is carrying an anomaly: his artifact), how he understands the auction is an anomaly, when he gets the mask under unknown circumstances, when he directly knows there's no anomalies... the list honestly could go on forever.

There's one other fact that I personally believe sealed this theory for me; his association with Haku.

In the recent chapter, when the MC is thinking about who to talk to about curses, Taiga instantly knows who we're thinking of, and rejects it on the basis that '[He] can't get rid of curses unless the anomaly that did the deed's right in front of him.' and that he's a 'Simp for the rules anyway.'

... Which is interesting, since it seems like Taiga has tried to ask him about this before. But if you think of this as Haku's stigma, and imagine Taiga trying to get his curse cleansed before, it makes sense! It would also be a good reason to put Haku and Taiga together in the prologue; Taiga can track the anomaly with his sense, and Haku can cleanse whatever curse it gives so long as Taiga manages to capture it or subdue it for long enough.

(Which, side note, is so tragic for the MC...)

Okay, now that the basis of 'Taiga is cursed' is out of the way, how on earth does this relate to Romeo?

Simple. I think Taiga's curse directly mirror's Romeo's stigma, and it's what caused their rift.

Romeo's stigma, as we learn in the new chapter as well, is dependent on his attachment to the items he throws. This, thematically, works with Romeo, who is known to be greedy. Everything he does is motivated by a profit of some kind, whether that profit is social or monetary or whatever. He wants special privileges so he does special missions. He wants money so he raises fees and coerces people to gamble. He wants popularity so he dresses nicely and pampers himself. It doesn't always mean he is money grubbing and stingy (because we see he's willing to spend lavishly on grooming and decor!) but it means that he's attached to what he has. His stigma requires him to give up that attachment. It is a punishment, a sacrifice, as a result of the pact. Similar to how Luca lost his brother (and gained a protective stigma), Romeo has to lose what he feels is worth something in order to fully utilise his ability. Call it a sort of pride.

I think, on the other hand, Taiga's curse is one of envy. He has a desire to eat anomalies, yes, but the desire becomes stronger the more attached someone else is to the anomaly. He doesn't need any interest in it, really. If someone else likes it he will need to eat it.

Taiga covets Haru's Peekaboo to eat instead of the wild one that we also know is in Jabberwock. He's composed about the Like Dove (barely, but he restrains himself!) until Romeo wants it. He steals the plants from Rui's BAR, not the ones in the garden outside (both are Rui's, but his bar is arguably the more loved thing of his since it was fully his choice). He covets Mortkranken's anomalies, and becomes mildly obsessed with the immortal one as soon as it becomes a major research subject. He's also completely fine holding and handling the mask, presumably for a long time, up until Romeo sees it as valuable and worthy.

Now, this doesn't necessarily make them instantly incompatible. But when you take one of Romeo's core traits being 'Greed towards anomalies' (He wants to collect them and frequently complains that other houses are 'stealing' them from under him; he sells them; he gets missions from Hyde to get them; etc), it becomes evidently clear that Taiga's curse is directly oppositional to it.

I think it's pretty obvious by now that Taiga and Romeo have a pretty turbulent relationship now, but were extremely close in the past. Multiple characters state that it would be nice to see them on good terms again, and it's certainly worth mentioning that Romeo is one of the few people Taiga consistently remembers. They both know each other exceptionally well, too. Taiga knows how to get under Romeo's skin and Romeo knows Taiga's habits.

Going back to the idea of this curse causing their rift, if Romeo was constantly on the verge of an important capture, or even if there was just one mission that was important, and Taiga ruined it by eating the anomaly, I doubt Romeo would easily forgive and forget. I think it could very easily cause a massive rift that just kept growing with each new snack Taiga picked up.

I think a moment that gets its nuance overlooked a lot is the scene just before Taiga eats the dove. The Japanese line emphasises that Taiga is referring to HIS heart, that Romeo could shoot through HIS heart, not just a general appraisal of sharpshooting. He even points directly to his heart as he says this, and it makes Romeo hesitate. They're BOTH in pain in this scene. They're both conflicted; this is their ex-partner (which I don't mean in the romantic sense, just in the general sense) who they were very, very close with, and who is now literally at arms length with a loaded gun. Romeo could just shoot him. Romeo could put an end to all of this supposed pain. And Taiga might even let him. And wouldn't that be karma for all he's done? But he can't. He hesitates.

And you know what appears after that? The dove.

This dove that symbolises both general desire (flies over peoples' heads when they're thought about) and Romeo's desire. His desire to escape probation. His desire to make money. His desire to capture, not kill. His desire to reconcile instead of fight. His desire to shoot.

And Taiga kills it. Eats it.

I think this is the most tragic scene between the two of them. This is the crux of it; they both want to reconcile. They want to be friends, to be close, to stop the war raging between the two of them that has done nothing but hurt them both AND hurt the wellbeing of Sinostra, but they can't, because Romeo will ALWAYS desire, and Taiga will ALWAYS take that from him.

It's a cycle they can't escape. The auction chapter shows it too. Taiga is almost disappointed at Romeo's greed. He seems jaded by it, and seems proud and happy when Romeo gives it up for once. Romeo is happy too; MC goes out of her way to say that Taiga handing him the mask makes him look more peaceful than he ever has before. It is quite literally a perfect ending for the two of them and a perfect way to reconcile.

And then Taiga eats it! Again! But I think the most horrifying part of it is that he tries to warn Romeo.

The comic doesn't translate or even transcribe it, so it's so, so easy to miss, especially if you don't speak Japanese, but Taiga grunts out the words 'I', 'Eat', and 'Next' as he approaches Romeo and the mask, and it's the direct reason why Romeo is able to realise that Taiga is about to eat it before it actually happens. He basically just grunts out 'I'm gonna eat that next' as he's fighting against it! But inevitably, neither of them can stop it. The cycle continues.

As long as Romeo is greedy, and as long as Taiga is gluttonous, they will never be able to fully reconcile, no matter how much they both want it. Both of them have to change, but I want to point out that at this moment Romeo is the bigger active obstacle between the two of them. Romeo can't let things go, he holds onto everything and lets it build until it explodes in one way or another. Tiris, his stigma, is symbolic in that sense, that he has to learn to let things go, because if he lets it build too much it will explode spectacularly.

(All of the ghouls have this sort of symbolism with their stigma, so it's not just a Romeo thing, but it's definitely important to his character.)

But Romeo can't get over it yet. He can't get over his greed, he can't let go of things he can't achieve (like getting Kaito's necklace), he can't get over past betrayals (Taiga, what happened with his family, etc)... He's too stuck and stubborn, and his refusal to budge has therefore lead to Taiga's refusal to push. Taiga has stopped caring about getting on good terms because he knows it won't turn out well. He's given up and become cynical, which in turn means that IF Romeo were to change, Taiga... still probably wouldn't. They're cyclical again. Always, always missing each other. So close and yet so far.

I hope the MC can be the catalyst for this cycle to end. Or Ritsu, who is a good equalizer to the two of them. But until she learns to see her own worth in the Academy, and until Ritsu accepts that sometimes he's wrong / he doesn't always know the most out of everyone in the room, I'm afraid Romeo and Taiga will remain stuck in this loop forever...

[cookinguptales]

You know... I had an experience about two months ago that I didn't talk about publicly, but I've been turning it over and over in my mind lately and I guess I'm finally able to put my unease into words.

So there's a podcast I'd been enjoying and right after I got caught up, they announced that they were planning on doing a live show. It's gonna be near me and on the day before my birthday and I thought -- hey, it's fate.

But... as many of you know, I'm disabled. For me, getting to a show like that has a lot of steps. One of those steps involved emailing the podcasters to ask about accessibility for the venue.

The response I got back was very quick and very brief. Essentially, it told me to contact the venue because they had no idea if it was accessible or not.

It was a bucket of cold water, and I had a hard time articulating at the time quite why it was so disheartening, but... I think I get it a little more now.

This is a podcast that has loudly spoken about inclusivity and diversity and all that jazz, but... I mean, it's easy to say that, isn't it? But just talking the talk without walking the walk isn't enough. That's like saying "sure, we will happily welcome you in our house -- if you can figure out how to unlock the door."

And friends, my lock-picking set is pretty good by this point. I've been scouting out locations for decades. I've had to research every goddamn classroom, field trip, and assigned bookstore that I've ever had in an academic setting. I've had to research every movie theater, theme park, and menu for every outing with friends or dates. I spend a long time painstakingly charting out accessible public transportation and potential places to sit down every time I leave the house.

Because when I was in college, my professors never made sure their lesson plans were accessible. (And I often had to argue with them to get the subpar accommodations I got.) Because my friends don't always know to get movie tickets for the accessible rows. Because my dates sometimes leave me on fucking read when I ask if we can go to a restaurant that doesn't keep its restrooms down a flight of stairs.

I had one professor who ever did research to see if I could do all the coursework she had planned, and who came up with alternate plans when she realized that I could not. Only one. It was a medical history and ethics class, and my professor sounded bewildered as she realized how difficult it is to plan your life when you're disabled.

This woman was straight-up one of the most thoughtful, philosophical, and ethical professors I've ever had, one who was incredibly devoted to diversity and inclusion -- and she'd never thought about it before, that the hospital archives she wanted us to visit were up a flight of stairs. That the medical museum full of disabled bodies she wanted us to visit only had a code-locked back entrance and an old freight elevator for their disabled guests who were still breathing.

And that's the crux of it, isn't it? It's easy to theoretically accept the existence of people who aren't like you. It's a lot harder to actively create a space in which they can exist by your side.

Because here's what I did before I contacted the podcasters. I googled the venue. I researched the neighborhood and contacted a friend who lives in the area to help me figure out if there were any accessible public transportation routes near there. (There aren't.) I planned for over an hour to figure out how close I could get before I had to shell out for an uber for the last leg of the trip.

Then I read through the venue's website. I looked through their main pages, through their FAQs to see if there was any mention of accessibility. No dice. I download their packet for clients and find out that, while the base building is accessible, the way that chairs/tables are set up for individual functions can make it inaccessible. So it's really up to who's hosting the show there.

So then and only then I contacted the podcasters. I asked if the floor plan was accessible. I asked if all the seats were accessible, or only some, and whether it was open seating or not. Would I need to show up early to get an accessible seat, or maybe make a reservation?

And... well, I got the one-sentence reply back that I described above. And that... god, it was really disheartening. I realized that they never even asked if their venues were accessible when they were booking the shows. I realized that they were unwilling to put in the work to learn the answers to questions that disabled attendees might have. I realized that they didn't care to find out if the building was accessible.

They didn't know and they didn't care. That, I think, is what took the wind out of my sails when they emailed me back. It's what made me decide that... yeah, I didn't really want to go through the trouble of finding an accessible route to the venue. I didn't want to have to pay an arm and a leg to hire a car to take me the last part of the journey. I didn't want to make myself frantic trying to figure out if I could do all that and still make the last train home.

If they didn't care, I guess I didn't either.

If they'd apologized and said that the only venue they could get was inaccessible, I actually would have understood. I know that small shows don't always get their pick of venues. I get it. I even would have understood if they'd been like "oh dang, I actually don't know -- but I'll find out."

But to be told that they didn't know and didn't intend to find out... oof. That one stung.

Because.... this is the thing. This is the thing. I may be good at it by now, but I'm so tired of picking locks. I'm tired of doing all the legwork because no one ever thinks to help me. I'm tired of feeling like an afterthought at best, or at worst utterly unwelcome.

If you truly want to be inclusive, you need to stop telling people that you're happy to have them -- if they can manage to unlock the door. You need to fucking open it yourself and welcome them in.

What brought all this back to me now, you may be asking? Well... I guess it's just what I was thinking to myself as I was tidying up my phone.

Today I'm deleting podcasts.

[tagidearte-spam-sb]

The Daycare Attendant and Their Dialogue

A little ramble on some of the things I've noticed about their ways of speaking. This post ended up being predominantly about how they refer to one another. Most of this is speculation mixed in with my own views on them and their relationship, without discarding some other possible alternatives (for instance, although I do view them as two AIs that heavily rely on each other to function properly, I do not cast aside the interpretation that they are the same person).

(note: although I have played SB and Ruin, I did not play HW2 myself. All I know about that game has been through let's plays).

Sun is, obviously, the chattier of the two. Not only are his sentences longer, he speaks more of them in a row than Moon does - in fact, we only see Moon going on and on in Ruin (which we will discuss later).

Both of them use a lot of repetitions when speaking. From their infamous "clean up, clean up" line, to Sun's panicked "you like glitter glue? I have glitter glue!" and "light's on! Light's on! Keep the generators on!", to Moon's "hidey hide, hide away" and "bad children must be punished. Bad children must be found", "knock knock", etc. One of the first things Eclipse says is also a repetition ("warning, warning"). They appear to occasionally rhyme their words too, or at the very least use similar sounds in their sentences. This is a robot that works with young children, so it's not surprising.

On that same vein, their main insult to misbehaving children (and employees... or at least Cassie's dad) is also a repetition: "naughty, naughty" (which turns into "naughty boy" for Gregory), "rulebreaker, rulebreaker", and "bad kid, bad kid". In fact, it appears they repeat words more often when they're mad/stressed (Sun's no no nos, Moon freaking out in Ruin). Taking into account they get mad pretty easily when things don't go their way, it's not surprising we hear it so often, but it's neat.

Although both of them speak in an almost song like manner, with Sun's run on sentences flowing well between one another, Moon is the one where this is more evident due to how much shorter his lines are.

Moon is also the one who speaks in a more childish manner. Not only are his phrases shorter, he doesn't articulate them as much as Sun does, and seems to prefer shorter words and sounds, especially giggles. This makes Sun appear more developed. Key word being appear.

Sun tends to speak as if he's entertaining a crowd, doing his best to keep the attention on himself while trying to keep it fun. This is most evident in his level explanation parts in HW2, but it's also clear in SB. In Ruin, this is absent for... obvious reasons.

Both of them are somehow direct in their way of giving orders/saying what they want to do. When they can't be direct, they find workaround truths in order to conceal what they truly want to say, while keeping the main order clear (such as Sun saying the player will hurt their eyes if they work in the dark and ordering them to keep the lights on, rather than saying Moon will kill them so keep that room bright. Direct, but nicer).

Not at all important to FNAF speech lore but I think it's funny: Sun says the infamous Vanny line during the daycare intro section. "Are you having fun yet? (Are ya, are ya?)". 0.5 seconds after Gregory just stands there, which coincidentally is what Vanny does 0.5 seconds after Gregory gets into a vent (numbers exaggerated). I don't know. I just think it's funny. Replaying the daycare section after hearing Vanny yapping that line non stop gave me flashbacks.

The way they refer to each other and the pronouns they use are an entire thing, so let me separate it in two parts.

So that this post doesn't become scrolling hell on the tags, I'll keep it below the read more line:

Sun

Sun is the one who refers to himself the most. He frequently uses "I" or "me" when talking about himself, and does it way more often than Moon. Examples of this are "I have glitter glue!", "I'm stuck in a nap", "it really speaks to me", "I feel dumber just looking at it" - you get the point by now. The reason I'm going hard on this point is to contrast his way of speaking to Moon's.

When it comes to him referring to Moon, we only ever hear it twice. In HW2 he says "He'll wake up if the lights go out!". In Ruin, he says "Not me, the other me!". Besides those two voice lines, he merely alludes to Moon without ever mentioning him by name or by pronouns (such as when he says he'll turn the lights off himself, implying he'll let Moon deal with you, or when he says you can't work in the dark and instead of saying the real reason as to why, he cuts himself and goes "You'll- hurt your eyes if you work in the dark").

This is interesting for two reasons: one, we only see him directly mention his counterpart when he's in a ruined state (the HW2 voice line comes from the mask off section, when they're broken down. At least I think so); two, he simultaneously views Moon as separate from himself ("he'll wake up") and as a part of himself/another side of himself ("the other me"). You can take that as them really being the same "person", or as a reflection of their complicated body sharing situation. Take it as you will.

As far as referring to himself and Moon at the same time, he only does it in Ruin when he states "We need to be whole".

Moon

The way Moon structures his sentences means that he seldomly actually refers to himself directly. For instance, he doesn't say "I will find you" or "I will punish you", putting himself as the subject of the sentence. Instead, he puts others as the subject, wording it as "Bad children must be found" and "Bad children must be punished". This is consistent across all of his voice lines except one... Well, technically two.

To get it out of the way: there's a deleted voice line where he says "I'm putting you in time out", a line he and Sun share and which worked the same way the clean up one does - them saying the same thing, a push towards them being the same person ordeal.

The only in-game time he refers to himself directly is in Ruin. This line is also the only time he refers to both himself and Sun as a duo. This line is also the longest line of dialogue Moon has.

"(groaning noises) Naughty! Naughty! Make it stop! The light makes us hurt! Grind Grind! Grinding gears inside my head! We can't move. Error! Error!"

This line, much like Sun's, is interesting for various reasons. Even though Sun is no longer with him (being stuck in the VR world and separate from Moon, shown by how Moon can't move because the lights are on but his body can't shift into Sun, so he's completely stuck), he first refers to himself as a "us" - adding Sun into the mix. Then he refers to himself alone, "my head" instead of "ours", before going right back to a plural.

We can assume one of three things here: one, Moon refers to himself as a we more often, adding Sun into the mix, a complete opposite of his counterpart who typically speaks in singulars; or two, Sun is not as absent as he appears and in that moment he is in fact with Moon, just stuck on the passenger sit, hurting alongside him; or three, this is merely an effect of this being in the Ruin DLC where the whole point of the daycare section is to fuse Sun and Moon into the Eclipse, so the writers decided to bring the point home further. If you have more options, feel free to add them.

Side note: This voiceline also shows Moon's speaking patterns pretty well. Putting "the light" as the subject instead of "we/I", the rhyming, the repetition, the clipped sentences compared to Sun's endless ones, the noises, the scratchiness, the vague childlike mannerism... All ending with "we can't move", way more straight to the point, said right before he freezes up, which deviates from the "other subject first then me" rule due to the pain tearing through him at the moment.

Moon does not call Sun "the other me" or anything similar in any of the games. He never refers to Sun as if he too was Sun. However, we can assume his view on their situation probably mirrors Sun's - being in the same body and all -, so take it as you will.

And as for Moon referring to Sun as a separate individual... He does not refer to him as a "he". Instead, he actually mentions his counterpart by name, saying "No more Sun". Meaning he's the only one of the the two that has canonically used his other side's name. I think it's interesting how the least chatty one is the one actually calling the other by name and not the other way around. And yes, you can say it's a way of speaking and he's referring to the concept of the sun rather than saying his name, but taking into consideration Sun never utters the word moon, I'd say it's still quite a big thing.

In my headcanon land, due to the happenings at the Pizzaplex, Sun is probably too embarrassed and mortified to even mention Moon. Moon, on the other hand, has no reason to have such troubles besides hating Sun for (in his perspective) keeping him locked in a prison of light. So for me, it makes sense we never see Sun saying Moon's name, and it makes it more impactful when he actually acknowledges Moon as the other me rather than a he.

Eclipse

I lied there's three parts.

Eclipse has very few voice lines. The only one that matters here is "We need to clean this place up before we can open in the morning." This is pretty straight to the point: Eclipse, unlike Sun and Moon, doesn't use an "I". They immediately speak in the plural. They do not view themselves as just Eclipse, but rather as both Sun and Moon combined, at the same time.

As for the DCA being two AIs or one... in Ruin, Sun thanks Cassie after Eclipse is activated. It's left ambiguous. You can say Sun speaking afterwards proves they're not one and the same, "with the Sun and Moon AIs still running separately somehow", or you can assume Eclipse existing doesn't mean Sun and Moon can't keep doing their thing under safe mode, albeit in a less chaotic manner, allowing Sun's voice to come through but not making him any less Moon - he is Moon, he is Sun, and they are complicated yet very simple.

I believe in whichever version is more convenient at any given time, with a preference for "two codependent AIs" given what the games show us. Although, going by everything I collected here, the only theory I believe to just not be supported by canon at all is the one with Eclipse as a separate thing all together. Eclipse refers to themselves as a "we', not an "I". Eclipse activates when you make Sun and Moon "whole". It canonically makes no sense for Eclipse to be a third thing. (Please remember this is a post about what's in the games, the canon of FNAF. AUs and fandom or whatever, you do you).

That's it. Hope you enjoyed my rambling. Uh artblog unpaid promotion @tagidearte thank you for making it this far.

[halemerry]

So there's a lot to unpack here but I want to start by talking about the ending and specifically about the Metatron and the calculating moves made at the end of episode 6.

Every single piece of what happened there was a manipulation technique being employed against Aziraphale to an almost brilliant degree and I'm honestly a little obsessed with what this says about the Metatron in particular.

Let's go in order.

First of all. We see him order coffee. In a human body. Something sweet and sugary. He talks to Nina and asks her about her shop name. Does anyone ever ask for death? And when she tells him no they don't his response is to say "so predictable". Our introduction to him here even when everything about him reads like a sweet old man is presented to show us someone who reads the world in terms of being predictable to him.

He then shows up in the middle of Aziraphale's existence being threatened. He immediately cuts down the threat's authority (using outdated language like Az himself would favor) and reemphasizes his own connection to Heaven. When Michael doesn't recognize him and he puts her down and then directly engages Crowley. Crowley who, to Aziraphale, has for centuries at a minimum been someone he thinks is smarter, better, more Good than these other archangels. The Metatron validates these beliefs. Crowley is more Heavenly than these archangels who couldn't even recognize the voice of God when he was standing right in front of them.

The Metatron draws attention to the fact he's in a human body. The kind of body Aziraphale has been in and loved for nearly 6000 years. He then banishes the archangels, implying their morality is in a gray space, and validates Muriel someone we have seen Aziraphale react positively to and someone outside the current power structure. Look at me, he's saying. I see and validate the little guy.

He then tries to talk to Aziraphale. Aziraphale says "I've made my position quite clear." And then the Metatron offers Aziraphale the coffee. This bartering chip, consuming sustenance, is a thing that Aziraphale and Crowley have used as their connective tissue for centuries. It's an olive branch for them. It's giving Aziraphale bodily pleasure and the Metatron implies that he himself has partaken also - a thing we know that Aziraphale has struggled historically with moralizing. He is seen by the closest thing he has left to his parent and he is having old fears validated as safe and old habits being played upon to make him feel secure

He then REMOVES Aziraphale from his home turf. Not only does he remove Crowley from the equation but he takes Aziraphale from the place that has stood as a place of sanctuary throughout the entirety of the season. The shop is Safe and Aziraphale is leaving it and he is leaving the one person who might be able to smell the bullshit coming from the Metatron. The music notably turns absolutely dire here.

The next time we see them the Metatron tells Aziraphale that he doesn't need to answer instantly. He can take his time, if he likes. All the time he needs. And then tells him to go tell Crowley. Once again bringing Crowley in as a valid part of this while manufacturing a scenario where he can't possibly be.

Az ends up in a place where he's overwhelmed and confused and he wants so badly to believe what he's being told. It's an appealing thing from his perspective! He feels off kilter like he's made a mistake in judging the Metatron. He can't even fully articulate what happened to Crowley at first and he's had absolutely no real time to actually think it through. He's running on sheer reactive energy.

The Metatron starts their conversation by asking Aziraphale's opinion. Who should rule Heaven? This is once again playing into making Az feel validated and like he's a part of this decision making process. The Metatron corrects him, complimenting Aziraphale and making him feel capable and in control. He reassures Aziraphale's bafflement. And draws attention to some traits that, while true of Aziraphale around Crowley, are not his defining traits in the eyes of Heaven. You don't just tell people what they want to hear I find particularly notable in this regard given Aziraphale spent most of his time on earth actively lying to Heaven and doing just that. But it fits into the narrative Aziraphale has built around himself, especially post Apocalypse. The Metatron then says I need you (a phrase Az will use much more painfully here in a minute).

And even after all this Aziraphale says no. He says flat out he doesn't want to go back to Heaven. He says this!!! And then the Metatron sweetens the pot. He swaps tactics. Not once has this come up until Aziraphale pushes back against the idea. If the Metatron could've gotten him without using it I have no doubt he wouldn't have bothered with it. Come to Heaven and we can save Crowley. Aziraphale loves Crowley. Aziraphale thinks Crowley is better than any of the angels he's interacted with. Crowley is Good and Nice and Kind and always saving him and now he's being presented with a way to return that. He can Forgive Crowley - a thing Crowley has always presented to Aziraphale as something he struggles with. All of these things Aziraphale has watched Crowley react to in a way that belittles himself or distances them from one another. Of course he wouldn't consider that maybe what he was actually saying is "I'm unforgivable and I don't want that forgiveness."

The Metatron offers Aziraphale a Dream Offer for the pre Armageddon Aziraphale. You can keep your Crowley. You can heal him like you have always thought he deserved. You can have power and control the people who for your whole existence has beaten you down. It can go back to how it was but BETTER.

When Aziraphale leaves he still hasn't answered. He goes and has the conversation they have. It's intense and emotional and the Metatron comes in after the Moment all casual and asks how it goes, knowing fully well the shitstorm he had just set up to get created. And then he turns around and says "always did want to go his own way" which is not only true of Crowley but framed as a bad thing despite the fact that he has just spent twenty minutes or so telling Aziraphale that he's done his own thing and that is Good. He is playing both sides of this perspective as it suits him. And then he cuts down Crowley asking questions, pressuring Aziraphale to avoid doing the same. He then proceeds to ask Aziraphale not if he's made up his mind but if he's ready to get started. He is one by one closing off exit routes to this thing as Aziraphale starts to look more and more panicked and indecisive. He makes sure the bookshop is in good hands and asks Aziraphale if there's anything he needs to take with him. Letting Aziraphale have the illusion of choice while cutting down "I don't want to" as an option altogether.

And Az, as soon as the Metatron is out of shot, tries to express this. And then he falls back right on old coping methods. The Metatron pats him on the head. Reassures that he's the right one for this. That he is Good. That his particular skillset is needed here.

It is a masterstroke of manipulation. A very dark twist on what we see Crowley do time and time again with Aziraphale throughout the millennia. Familiar in a way that makes Aziraphale feel safe. Except this time this is being used to put him back in line. It's brilliant and painful and it fucking hurt and I need a season 3 to see the Metatron get what's coming to him stat.

[hexhomos]

Dropping into the Mel convo to add that I don't see how the stans that erase/ignore the Things She Actually Does And Says and claim she was just helping Jayce out of the goodness of her heart can claim that anyone pointing out that she's a billionaire imperialist who manipulated him for her own gain is racist when THEY'RE the ones claiming she spent all of season 1 helping a nonblack man for. idk. reasons. Why is it "better" for her to be a Black woman who supported a man and asked for nothing in return...?

That reading of her makes everything with her mother make no sense. Is she like, just mad her mom is interfering with her ability to Support and Love Jayce? Lmao.

The reading that the text and the inherent set up of the politics of Piltover/Zaun supports is a complex woman with her own personal motivations, wanting to live up to the image of the family she believes shunned her on her own (nonviolent) terms, using the craft of social engineering (manipulation, etc) within the political and economic sphere rather than through weaponry and warfare. She starts to shift due to growing some actual attachment to Jayce, but it's not a perfect switch flip, and then her mother arriving forces Mel to contend with what she had actually been doing by "preparing" the city for her family.

That's infinitely more interesting than "oh she just helped this guy out of the kindness of her pure heart and because he's hot" and also has canonical basis that can be pointed to In The Text. That's a complicated, multifaceted character. The fanon Mel who just helped Jayce because she's a good person is a flat, tired trope.

And personally, I find people who "love" characters but have completely inaccurate readings of them to be far more annoying than people who "hate" characters but understand them perfectly. Love/hate is just a matter of taste. If someone can spend time honestly analyzing a character, that's more important than ten thousand blandly positive comments or tweeted out fanfictions dressed up as appreciation.

Paragraph #2 on this actually blindsided me like I could kiss you on the cheek (consensually) rn I've never been able to properly articulate WHY the take rankled me so much even when I tried to see it from a completely best-possible-intentions perspective. And this gets it. It's like you're not even flattening her into a girlboss caricature, it's worse, you're actually making her a 2D saccharine pastry servant with no will of her own except furthering some man's narrative as his mommy and denying the one massive, defining character conflict Mel has in the entire show: she is her mother's daughter! She IS a wolf in sheepskin!

When you have all this power, all this privilege and resources at your disposal from day 1, and you choose to look the other way - what happens then? Is this really being kinder than her mother? Is this being merciful, or just prolonging a sort of system-wide torture? It's absolutely relevant to how we see kid-Mel in that flashback from s1 too. Her idea of mercy and salvation from her mother's more violent ends is to enslave someone. She puts it in gentle terms and dresses it up fancily as a beneficial thing to both parties, but that is what she is proposing, in the context of the Noxus' hostile invasion of Ionia; they'd chain that princess and mold her in training until she became an useful asset in their service. Is that kindness? Is that good? I don't think Mel is able to answer to this even in her big age during season 1.

She certainly thinks it could be, when compared to death, but it's also a lie she tells herself while she ignores the rest of the world and the place she holds within it. Mel hates getting her hands dirty, because she's never /had/ to do that to enjoy the brilliant spoils of success; her mother loves her enough to make sure she could avoid the bloodshed. She carries the strategist's fallacy of thinking whole wars and countries can be managed from the privileged seats up top, out of touch with the blood and gristle. From up there, when people die you don't see it. You can mark the numbers off as necessary collateral damage in the path to Exponential Growth.

The core assumption that has always bothered me is defining this as 'kindness' without actually examining what it says about her character and the story. She was created that way for a reason. She was clothed in this way for a reason. The first fact we learn about Mel in the first episode she appears in is that she is the richest person in the entire city, and then there is a 10 year timeskip, and she hasn't truly done anything to address or prop up the undercity at all (they are ONE city too, under her own philosophy; Zaun is only a separate entity in the mouths of the zaunites who want freedom.) In that context, when her goal of statecraft clearly is to continue advancing Piltover as much as it can be advanced and do nothing about the screaming bleeding diseased dying hordes below the bowels of her capital - is that goodness? Is that really better than mother? I think Mel's arc is about finding out really quickly and really horrifically that it isn't, and that she played a big part in making a lot of things worse.

It's not that she failed at her job, it's quite the opposite. She succeeded in her mission so incredibly well her mother could swoop into power in a single day and then put another hundred necks to the blade, no sweat, and Mel has to reckon with what that says about her, and what she thought of herself. The power she has obviously always had and never sought to use as it Should have been used.

The idealistic future-path here is that now in full control of her Mother's armies, she's returning to Noxus to challenge the predatory system it perpetuates on a world scale, but only god knows what we'll see come January. And all of this is infinitely more interesting to me than docile fandomized ship accessory n.9999

[alchemistc]

Part One

Oh, I've got plenty to be thankful for

I've got eyes to see with

Ears to hear with

Arms to hug with

Lips to kiss with

Someone to adore

-bing crosby

He keeps waiting for someone to say something. To accuse him of lingering where he doesn't belong, or remind him he'd never actually made it all the way in. To tell him to go home, maybe get a halfhearted promise to let him know how Buck is at some point.

Maddie lays an exhausted head on his shoulder and Bobby sneaks him a slice of pumpkin pie he's apparently been hiding in the tote at his feet. Hen tosses him a power bank with a lightning cord and Karen makes a joke about his holiday attire.

When the coffee comes, Howie takes the trip to the lobby with him, pulls out his wallet and does his damnedest to strong arm Tommy into letting him tip the haggard looking girl another twenty bucks on top of the fifty Tommy'd figured was appropriate for having to balance a literal stack of hot beverages from the parking lot on Thanksgiving. She eyes them both with a smile and Tommy is more compelled the grab the drink carriers from her tired arms than stop Howie.

They're halfway back when Howie purposely slows his pace, and Tommy fights the urge to pick his up and avoid whatever's coming down on him. "So. Was this the wake up call you needed, or can I expect Buck to order a freezer on a Black Friday deal for my garage to store more baked goods?"

He doesn't know what that means.

He can extrapolate, though. "He's been baking?"

"Tommy, I cannot stress enough exactly how much he's been baking."

He'd tried his hand at a few things here and there, but Tommy's used to experimental chef Evan Buckley, not baking Evan Buckley. To be fair, if he'd seen Evan working a KitchenAid, apron tied loose and flour on a cheekbone, Tommy doubts he'd have actually had the time to finish whatever he had planned. That was then, of course.

"What was he doing on that trail, Howie?" That, too, he could maybe extrapolate. He doesn't want to, but he could.

Howie eyes him. Uses his free arm to elbow Tommy in the ribs. "You were the first person he ever invited to a 118 Thanksgiving, you know. My guess? He wasn't in the mood to be reminded of it while there was no room in the oven to bake away his feelings."

Yeah.

Jax had been over the moon when Tommy offered to take his shift, no trades necessary. What would the point have been, when Christmas and New Year's would be unbooked too?

Evan had bribed like six different people to ensure they'd be able to swing dinner on the day. Hobbes had sounded so thrilled to hear Tommy asking for the time off that he'd approved it without even looking at the shift.

"I'm just warning you in advance. The grovelling process is gonna involve eating your weight in loaves, most likely."

And that's that, apparently. No heavy handed warnings, no suspicion about why Tommy hasn't fucked off yet. Like it's some foregone conclusion that Tommy's not gonna panic and bolt a second time. Nothing has changed, yet Tommy gets the feeling they're all expecting some tearful reunion and a return to TommyandBuck.

Tommy slips the tea into Maddie's hands and watches her sniff it in distaste, which is an interesting nugget he'll have to revisit later if -

If.

There's no guarantees, here. That Tommy will be able to articulate how fucking terrified he is, that Evan will understand it. That the two of them will find a way through it together. All he has to go on is a solo hike on a day Evan should have been with family, an apparent bakery full of feelings spread between the 118, and the quiet calm that had washed over him when Eddie prompted him to make a decision.

Feet to the fire, he'd stayed.

---

Maddie's pregnant. It hits him between the eyes right around hour three of sit-and-wait. He's not an idiot, or a fool, and he hasn't spoken to any of these people in weeks so he's not going to announce it to the world, but somewhere in between the sporadic naps on Tommy's shoulder and the way she is attempting (failing) to power through her now cold tea makes him think. She and Bobby had driven here, and it's clear everyone else had been indulging. Maddie's no lush, but he's seen her knock back half a bottle of wine before when she's got nowhere to be.

She excuses herself to the bathroom for a third time, looking a little green, and Tommy ends up locked in a staring contest with Howie that only ends when Tommy mimes zipping his lips.

He still hasn't gotten the story about Eddie and why he's not here.

Bobby and Athena are apparently closing in on a new house.

Howie is less than a year away from having a second kid.

Athena's kids are apparently at Howie and Maddie's, attempting to keep Mara and Jee from destroying the house in the absence of adults.

And Tommy wants.

Wanting has never really been the problem, though. Wanting is the easy part. Wanting doesn't get him over the hurdle of knowing he's not enough. For Evan, for this family he's built that just keeps growing bigger and bigger. It'd been a relief, those first few days after, not to have to wonder which member of the 118 would land in the hospital next, not to have to rearrange something else on his schedule because Evan was convinced he was cursed, or Eddie'd had another shitty call with Christopher.

The relief hadn't lasted. A week in, he'd stayed up all night demolishing the half-bath off his dining room, because he'd been putting it off for months and he'd nearly texted Evan something that was startlingly revealing and left him exposed on all sides. Two weeks in he'd finished grouting the backsplash in his kitchen. And in between, he wondered how Eddie was doing, if he'd made any progress with his son. He'd wondered if Maddie enjoyed the bottle of wine they'd brought back from a spur of the moment trip to Napa. He'd wondered how Nash was doing, if he was readjusting to having his crew and his station back. He wondered how Hen and Karen were, how many things Denny had already gotten stuck in his cast trying to ease an itch.

He'd wondered, and he'd sat in it, and then he'd rewired the shoddy work an electrician had done in his spare room that he kept telling himself he'd get around to.

The wanting never goes away. He just finds new places to put it when he starts to care too much.

"Kinard and Buckley?"

Maddie's still in the restroom. Tommy - has no fucking clue why the nurse is staring at them like they'll just materialize the right people. She sucks in her lips and gives him a dead eyed stare before her eyes dart to his chest. More specifically, the nameplate on his chest.

Tommy blinks.

---

The having is where he's always floundered. Things are temporary. People are temporary. He's always been borrowing. Borrowing time, attention, affection.

For a few months there, he'd really started to think he could handle the having. That he'd get to keep it.

---

"I'm Buckley, he's Kinard," Maddie says from somewhere over his left shoulder, and he turns in time to see her adjusting her jacket, wiping at her lip. She stabilizes, looking unfazed, and stands tall. As tall as she can, at least. "You have news about my brother?"

The nurse glances around the room. No one is bothering to pretend not to be listening. Maddie hovers a wave behind her.

"Ignore the audience, we're all waiting with bated breath to see how obnoxious my brothers going to be. It depends entirely on whether or not he gets pie tonight."

She gives them all a disapproving look. This must not be one of their normal nurses.

Christ. They have normal nurses.

"Well, no pie tonight, but he should be able to eat a sandwich in the morning."

He's fine. He's fine.

Tommy knew going in that most of his injuries were superficial. The ribs had been a concern but with the pain meds and the collar he hadn't really had a chance to exacerbate those injuries. There's no reason he should feel quite so relieved to know that Evan will have a few annoying splints to work around and he'll probably need to rehab his ankle for a couple weeks once it's healed. The concussion isn't ideal, and he'll need help for a few days, but he's fine.

Tommy can feel the tears building.

"He'll likely be out for a few more hours, but I'll let you know when he's set up in a room. Two visitors at a time," she warns. "The concussion will effect his response time. Don't be surprised if he doesn't remember much, loses his train of thought."

Hen shifts somewhere behind him. It feels a bit like she's being held back from correcting the nurse about the normal side effects.

Things move on around him. The nurse leaves, Hen passes a Stanley cup around that definitely isn't filled with water, the normal sigh of relief is released while Maddie drops into the seat next to him with a groan, the team has a strange competition around him to battle for visitor position.

Tommy breathes.

I should go, Tommy thinks to himself, as half the people in the room raise their phones.

His own phone vibrates against his thigh.

A message from Howie, time stamped two minutes - Tommy squints to make sure - two minutes ago, an update on Evan. Another from Eddie reminding them all to give Buck a patent Eddie look from him while they were giving him shit. A selfie of Eddie, with Christopher somewhat reluctantly bending into the picture over his shoulder.

In another thread, he's got three messages from Eddie.

If I have to remove you from this group I'm sending my kid after you with his crutches.

You guys hiked Griffith Park for your Not-A-One-Month-Anniversary-We-Swear date, right?

Send Buck my love. Not like that, though.

Tommy sends back: When the fuck did he add me to his emergency contacts? and then decides he doesn't want to know anyway so he turns off his phone.

---

Maddie goes alone, and Tommy spends the time alternating between tapping his foot against the tile to distraction, and clamping his hand over his knee in an attempt to stop the tapping.

Bobby and Athena go next, then Hen and Karen. Then they're pulling on jackets and promising to save a plate for Buck.

Howie slips away for a few minutes and then returns, looking amused. "You think everyone else got the same greeting?" he asks his wife, who grins tiredly at him, pats his wrist. Her gaze turns to Tommy.

"Should we stay?"

That's a trap of a question. That's an assumption Tommy doesn't have a clue how to handle. He clears his throat. Shakes a few curls loose.

"What makes you think he'd want me to?"

Maddie's perfected the unimpressed eyebrow. It must be a parent thing.

Tommy barely holds in the sigh. "Go enjoy your meal."

---

Evan's been watching the door. It's clear the moment Tommy makes it to the threshold - he presses up, winces, tips sideways just enough to peek around the corner.

"Tommy," he says, and his expression melts.

Tommy's heard some iteration of that name a million times. Tom, from his dad. Tommy, fond and quiet from his mother, who'd never really learned how to speak up before she was gone. Thomas, in school, from teachers annoyed that he wouldn't just apply himself.

He was Kinard, to teammates, then fellow soldiers, to the firefighters he'd worked alongside for a decade before he ever let any of them know him.

No one says his name with quite so much reverence as Evan Buckley. He's convinced himself, over the last few weeks, that he'd been hearing adulation in that tone. But now it just sounds...relieved. Happy.

Evan slumps back and tries to cross his arms in a pout. There are too many cords and wires attached to him for it to work. "I'm pretty sure I'm mad at you," he says, and Tommy steps over the threshold.

---

Hobbes sounds fucking thrilled to find out he's going to be down a pilot for five days.

Evan throws a fit when he finds out Tommy's plan is to sleep on his own couch for the short duration of Evan's stay. Evan wins the proceeding argument and doesn't even complain that Tommy hadn't argued too hard

Bobby brings over enough leftovers to keep them in turkey sandwiches for a week, and Tommy doesn't think to ask how he got Tommy's address.

Tommy breathes. Tommy thinks. Once Evan can hold a train of thought for more than five minutes, Tommy talks.

Evan listens.

---

"So no Christmas," Evan pouts, and Tommy wants to bite it. "And no New Year's."

Tommy shifts a hand over his shoulder, tucks his chin over top of it so he can't see the pout anymore. "We were both already working those anyway."

"Do people do anything to celebrate Presidents Day?"

"Evan."

"Tommy," Evan mocks, and pulls far enough away to catch his gaze. "In the interest of transparency that was mostly a cover so I didn't ask about Valentine's Day."

"Is this you not asking about Valentine's Day?"

His smile is deceptively sweet. "I need help with my sandwich."

Tommy's seen him balancing a glass of water, his phone, two books and a takeout bag in his one good hand. He's absolutely full of shit.

Tommy leans forward to grab the sandwich off Evan's plate for him.

---

"You should stay," Tommy says, an hour after midnight two days into the new year. He's tipsy on his second glass of cheap champagne and he can't think of a reason to keep this in, anymore. Evan crinkles a brow at him.

"I... wasn't planning to go?"

There's a gold crown perched in his curls, and Tommy still hasn't taken the cheap plastic 2025 glasses off. The house is quiet, and there'd been shockingly few fires started by fireworks this year, so he's less tired than he'd expected to be.

"I meant -." Tommy starts, and then pauses. "I meant permanently. You should live here."

Evan laughs. Takes a bite out of his cake, and rolls his eyes, and then...stops. His entire body stills. "What."

It's ridiculous. The very thing that had pushed Tommy up out of his seat just a few months ago, sent him out the loft door with wet eyes and a heaviness in his heart.

"Tommy," Evan prompts, and Tommy catches the hand frozen on the countertop. He'd planned to hold this back, wait until something significant or poignant. But Evan had baked them a red velvet cake and argued with him the entire drive back from dinner about the proper way to fold a towel, and Tommy's tired of denying this isn't everything he's refused to let himself want for decades.

"You don't have to say yes just to confirm you're not breaking up with me," he tries to joke, and it falls flat.

"Tommy," Evan murmurs, quieter but more insistent.

"I'm serious. I want you here. I want -."

"Yes," Evan says, and squeezes his hand before he ducks his head bashfully. "Sorry. Continue."

"I want a life with you." The tears tickle at the back of his throat. He's gonna fucking cry, again. He'd always fucking known opening himself up to this was just an invitation for more tears in his life.

He can't quite convince himself the rest doesn't make them worth it.

"Yes. Again. Tommy, of course." He tips his chin. Purses his lips. "If you're sure."

Tommy swallows down the lump in his throat. He's never been more sure or more terrified of anything in his life. So he tells him so.

The words are like knives, but he works his way through the soreness, fights up past the fear that he's not sure will ever completely go away, and claws past the reminder that it's been a blink of an eye since Tommy walked out on this.

"Well. You can't walk out of your own house," Evan points out when he's finished, and of all things, it's that that snaps the tension of for once in his life prioritizing something other than fucking survival. He tips a grin, curls his elbow to bring their entwined hands to his lips. "It's gonna take years to coordinate another Thanksgiving with everyone," he bemoans, looking suspiciously watery-eyed himself as he holds Tommy's own wet gaze.

Tommy can extrapolate from that.

[hoshifighting]

Okay... But what if Y/n tells his best friend, Wonwoo, since highschool that she wants to join as a stripper as a joke. But then Wonwoo asks her to do a sexy dance in front of him, and Y/n played along, dancing, stripping naked in front of him and rode his lap with him still wearing shorts, until Wonwoo couldn’t hold back and fucked her hard.

— Warnings: Smut, lap dance, reader jokes ab being a stripper (all respect to the profession), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, best friends, stripping. — WC: 2k

It was a typical Friday evening, and you found yourself lounging on the couch with your best friend, Wonwoo. The two of you had been inseparable since high school, forming an unlikely but unbreakable bond. Wonwoo, with his quiet demeanor, was the yin to your yang. While he navigated life with a calm and collected approach, you were the unabashed extrovert, always seeking excitement.

As the evening progressed, you couldn't resist the urge to stir the pot a bit. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you turned to Wonwoo and blurted out, "Hey, Wonwoo, you know what I've been thinking lately?"

"What's on your mind, Y/n?" Wonwoo replied, his eyes reflecting curiosity.

"I was thinking of becoming a stripper."

Wonwoo's face immediately furrowed in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together. He blinked a few times, processing the unexpected revelation. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he struggled to comprehend your words.

"Wait, what? A stripper?" Wonwoo finally managed to articulate, his voice laced with bewilderment.

You chuckled at his reaction, fully aware of the stark contrast between your outgoing nature and Wonwoo's reserved personality. "Nah, Wonwoo, it's just a joke! Can you imagine me on a stage, dancing in front of strangers?"

His furrowed brow deepened as he tried to process the information. "You...want to be a stripper as a joke?"

"Yeah!"

Wonwoo let out a sigh of relief, his furrowed brow relaxing. "You scared me there for a moment. I couldn't picture you doing something like that."

The truth is, Wonwoo was a fucking liar.

However, deep down, Wonwoo couldn't deny the vivid image that flashed in his mind at your mention of becoming a stripper. The mental image of you dancing around a pole in skimpy clothing lingered, creating an unexpected tension in the room. He quickly brushed aside the intrusive thoughts, trying to focus on the conversation.

You noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor and couldn't help but tease him. "Oh, come on, Wonwoo. Are you sure you can't picture it? I bet I'd be the star of the show!"

Wonwoo's cheeks flushed slightly as he awkwardly coughed, attempting to dispel the lingering mental image. "No, Y/n. Let's not even entertain that idea. It's just not you."

With a sly grin, you turned to him and asked, "Wait, are you saying I'm not hot enough for that kind of job, Wonwoo?"

Wonwoo's eyes widened as he frantically shook his head. "No, no! That's not what I meant at all!"

But his reddening cheeks and ears told a different story. You couldn't help but revel in the mischief, adopting a mischievous expression. "Oh, I see. So, you do think I'm hot?"

Wonwoo stammered, trying to backtrack, "I-I didn't say that. I just meant, um, it's not something I could imagine you doing. Not because of how you look!" His eyes darted away, and he mumbled, "Well, I mean, you're... You're pretty, very pretty."

He couldn't help but attribute his discomfort to more than just the thought of you pole dancing—it was the unspoken crush he harbored on you. Each playful comment seemed to amplify his self-consciousness, making him acutely aware of the feelings he kept under wraps.

Attempting to steer the conversation away from the provocative topic, you chimed in, "You know, it's not like I genuinely want to be a stripper. But I've always thought it would be fun to dance for someone, you know? Just to let loose and have a good time."

Wonwoo's eyebrows shot up, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise at your revelation. The notion of you wanting to dance for someone, while not necessarily in a provocative way, fueled his imagination, igniting a subtle curiosity.

"Oh, really?" he responded, his voice betraying a hint of intrigue. "Dance for someone, like, just casually?"

You nodded, a playful glint in your eyes. "Yeah! I mean, not in a professional setting, but just dancing for someone special. It sounds like it could be a lot of fun, don't you think?"

Wonwoo's mind raced, grappling with the newfound information. His gaze focused on you, and with a hesitant smile. "Hey, Y/n," he began, his voice softer than usual, "you mentioned wanting to dance for someone. Would you... uh, would you mind dancing for me?"

He fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, his cheeks tinged with a subtle blush.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, and a playful grin formed on your lips. "Oh, really? Wonwoo, are you asking me for a dance?"

"Well, you know, you mentioned it, and I thought it might be... nice. I mean, if you're comfortable with it."

You couldn't help but find his shy request endearing. "Sure, Wonwoo. But you have to promise not to laugh at my moves. I can't promise they'll be any good."

Wonwoo chuckled nervously, "I'm sure you'll be great."

Your hands found the hem of your shirt, and with a playful grin, you tossed your clothing aside, letting it land somewhere in the living room. Wonwoo's eyes widened behind his glasses, focusing on your exposed tits, his usually composed demeanor giving way to a hint of surprise and curiosity.

His voice came out as a soft whisper, "Does this... does this make part of the dance too?"

You simply nodded, your own confidence shining through. "Of course!"

The room was filled with the sultry beat of the music as you continued to move, your hands gracefully making contact with your body. Wonwoo couldn't tear his eyes away, the subtle allure of the moment captivating his senses. The dancing became a mesmerizing display, the connection between you and Wonwoo growing hotter with each passing moment.

As the music's tempo intensified, you decided to take it a step further. With a bold move, you gracefully moved to sit on Wonwoo's lap, your dance becoming more provocative. His breath caught in his throat as your movements became a sensuous exploration, his heart pounding in his chest.

Your hips moved up and down, back and forth, and of course the bulge inside of his pants grew harder. Wonwoo, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure, let his hands find your hips. He tried to disguise the effect your movements were having on him, not wanting to make it obvious how affected he was. Your hips moved in a tantalizing rhythm against his, and Wonwoo felt a surge of lust that he struggled to conceal.

Unexpectedly, a low, sensual moan escaped your lips, hanging in the air like a shared secret. Wonwoo's ears caught the sound, and a jolt of awareness ran through him. Did he hear that right?

His hands instinctively pushed your hips down, a silent plea for you to continue. The dance resumed, and your hips moved deliciously against his. Wonwoo bit his lip, desperately trying to contain the desire that surged through him.

"Hm… Wonwoo…"

Wonwoo swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper, "Y/n."

In the blink of an eye, the delicate balance of composure that Wonwoo had been struggling to maintain shattered. His hand found its way to the nape of your neck, pulling you into a hungry, passionate kiss. The air crackled as your lips met, the tension between you finally finding release.

Wonwoo's free hand moved with a sense of urgency, grabbing your ass through the material of your shorts that still clung to your body. The touch was both possessive and hungry, his tongue fought yours, and your hips continued to grind on his dick.

Your hardened nipples were pressed on his chest, and he felt that, also, he felt your wetness soaking his pants through your shorts. His mouth found its way to your neck, leaving a trail of eager kisses. The soft touch of his lips sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but let out a soft gasp as his kisses ventured down towards your bust. His hands, now firmly gripping your tits.

He slowly guided you to lie on the couch. The air was thick with anticipation as his hands skillfully worked on the buttons of your shorts, his touch sending a cascade of sensations through your body.

With a deliberate slowness, he slid the clothing down your legs along with your panties. In the charged atmosphere of the room, as Wonwoo lowered his head closer to your thighs, you felt a sudden surge of impatience and need. Your hands gently pressed against his shoulders, halting his descent, and you looked into his eyes with a sense of urgency.

"Please, Wonwoo," you pleaded, your voice a breathy whisper. "Hurry, I need you."

His dark eyes met yours, the intensity of the moment reflected in the depths of his gaze. Understanding the urgency in your plea, Wonwoo's movements became more purposeful. With a swift motion, he aligned himself with your pussy, his pants and underwear also thrown around. 

The hot head of his cock rubbed against your entrance. He entered slowly so he didn't hurt you, since you didn't even want to wait for him to prepare you.  "How did you get so wet?" he asked, his voice laced with a mixture of wonder and desire.

Rolling your eyes in response, you could only manage a breathless murmur, "You," the single word encapsulating the effect he had on you. 

His cock stretched your walls perfectly, loving the fullness of Wonwoo, the initial discomfort giving way to a wave of pleasure. As Wonwoo's breath danced across your skin, his nose taking in the scent of your skin, a shiver ran down your spine. 

The throbbing length of his cock being squeezed by your wet walls, until his pelvis hits yours, a relief moan leaves your lips, as Wonwoo kisses your cheeks, his hips slowly starting to thrust into you. 

Your skin slapped together as he thrusted into you harder, making your body squirm under him. Meanwhile, Wonwoo admired the scene. How can a simple dance take him to paradise? He felt like he was seeing a work of art that some divine being had forbidden him from for so long.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust, your pussy making him wetter by the second, and your moans were driving him to the brink of an orgasm. "F-fuck Wonwoo yes! Right here!"

The explicit encouragement fueled a surge of energy within him, and Wonwoo, driven crazy by you, found the strength to respond. His movements became more purposeful, with a renewed vigor, he shifted your legs, pushing your knees toward your chest, deepening his cock inside of your pussy abusing the g'spot.

As you drooled from the corners of your mouth, the sheer pleasure and desire took over. In a breathless symphony, you cried out his name, as the climax overtook you, you felt yourself clenching uncontrollably around his cock, making him moan the loudest. 

Leaving an indelible mark on the couch beneath you, his cock throbbed inside of your pussy, the white hot spurts, being spilled inside of you, while you could only mumble his name softly enough to make him melt over you.

The air hung with a sense of ease and contentment as you found yourself still catching your breath, your voice reduced to a soft murmur of his name. Wonwoo, lying atop you, he couldn't help but savor the tender sound.

"Mmm, Wonwoo," you whispered, the quiet intimacy in your voice reflecting the connection between you two.

He stayed nestled on top of you, his weight providing a comforting support as you both recovered. Wonwoo looked into your eyes, a gentleness in his expression that hadn't surfaced before. "You know," he started, a playful glint in his eyes, "I think I want you to dance for me more often."

A genuine laugh escaped your lips, pleasantly surprised by his unexpected comment. "Oh, really? You enjoyed the show that much, Wonwoo?"

He nodded, his cheeks sporting a subtle blush. "Yeah, it was...unexpected, but I liked it. A lot."

Unable to resist a bit of teasing, you reveled in the sight of a more playful and confident Wonwoo. "So, you're saying you want a private dance performance on demand?"

Wonwoo's shy demeanor returned, but this time, accompanied by a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Maybe...just a little. It was...nice."

[cryptic-forge]

crab time! maybe a crustacean can also qualify as mermay content?

i love sculpting weird heads, and this one started with the head shape, inspired by some ffxiv gear i was using on my character. i've also been wanting to make a doll with four arms for a while now. the most fun thing about this one is that because of the articulated crab claws, they can hold things.

[i'm still figuring out how to shoot on manual -> photos came out a little grainy this time. but i'll be a photographer yet.]