#This is not a complaint either. Like it’s wholesome to me.

[iero]

My favorite genre of shopper is “Old guys who are clearly shopping for their wives” because they usually don’t know where anything is in a store or what they’re shopping for.

[plasticferal]

hey girlie, i NEED car sex matt pls😣🙏

shut up and drive | matt sturniolo.

authors note: thank you for the request! i hope i did it justice in these 3.9k words. not proof read! sorry it takes me forever to write lol.

warnings: 18+ content. road head, handjob, fingering, soft switch!matt, somewhat dom!reader, explicit language, unprotected, semi-public indecency. reader discretion advised.

matt has a bad, almost neck breaking habit of staring at you while he's driving. you can feel his eyes on you, then glancing away, then looking through his peripheral vision to make sure you're not about to call him out.

"you're so pretty, baby" he speaks, admiring you. you chuckle, shifting in the car seat. bringing a hand around to his headrest, you play with his hair. he grips just above your knee with one hand, the other secure at the bottom of the wheel.

“eyes on the road, matthew” you tug at his hair with a warning.

he groans in complaint, a tone that would indicate he's annoyed but deep down, he loves it. he loves the sound of your direct voice, telling him to do something and then expecting it from him.

you're the only person who could make a demand and it not get under his skin, because you always mean it from a good place. that, and the fact he's utterly infatuated by you.

"you could have just said thank you" he mumbles, taking it as a hit to his joviality.

"thank you, my love" and he smiles softly and timidly at you, cheeks flushing pink at your words alone. you squeeze his cheeks to turn his head back to the road ahead and he laughs.

you smile at him with admiration. how good he looks with his sleeves rolled up at the wrists, hand lazily on the bottom of the steering wheel, silver rings wrapping around his long, slender fingers. the road ahead is empty, no cars around and the only sound being matt humming along to the music.

the sun is finally setting, and you're both drained. he's driving you both home, fidgeting in his seat as the trip feels far too long. his hips wriggle, and you can tell he needs a break from driving. the views surrounding you are monotonous, making you both heavy-eyed.

"sorry," his voice is meek, small yawn escaping his lips.

"don't apologise, matty." you laugh inwardly.

"i know, i do that a lot," he agrees, shaking off his tiredness.

if there's one person in this world he's going to agree with, it's you. even if you're completely wrong in a statement, or an idea, he's agreeing with you without justification.

"can i have a kiss?" he asks wholesomely, leaning his cheek over a little, one hand still glued to the steering wheel.

"do you think you deserve one?" you ask him warmly, turning in your seat so your body is toward him.

"i do" he nods.

"you have been good, baby." you admit.

you can already tell that matt is tense, your touch in any way at all making his skin hot. he’s been on his best behaviour the entire drive, knowing his reward at the end is you.

"i know, just for you." he speaks softly, proudly.

you exhale amusement, elbow resting on the centre console so you can get closer to matt. pressing your lips to his cheekbone, his face is warm. either from blushing or the heat he has blasting. he smiles sweetly, and satisfied.

you raise a hand to behind his headrest to start playing with his hair again. you scratch the back of his neck lightly, massaging where you can. he melts at the feeling on your nails raking through.

"that feels so good," his voice is like a record player, smooth but a little scratchy.

matt rests his right hand above your knee, giving you a squeeze to say thank you. he keeps his hand there, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

matt is still restless in his seat. you can tell by the way he's rubbing his thighs together, appearing uncomfortable. not being able to sit still.

"you feeling okay?" you ask, observing your boyfriend.

"yeah, baby" he looks at you for a split second, cautious not to linger.

you love watching him drive. the effortlessness, knowing he's in full control, the way he leans back into his seat.

readjusting in your own spot, scooting a little, his hand is forced further up your thigh. you lay your hand over his, pulling it closer up to the crease where your leg meets your hip. you feel matt's eyes dart to gaze down to where he's touching you, needing to see. you force his head back by the base of his neck, and he huffs.

"that's not fair, you're distracting me.” he comments lightheartedly.

"i'm not even doing anything" you speak defensively.

"yeah, well, it doesn't take much" he scoffs, but you know exactly what you’re doing.

you’ve been hinting all day that you can’t wait to get him home and have him all to yourself, but the temptation is tested the further into the drive you get.

"if i really wanted to distract you, i'd do this," you move your hand from his hair, to rest in his lap.

you’re blatant with your action, hand over the zipper of his pants, cupping his buldge. matt grips the steering with both hands, glancing down for a second and muttering a quick “fuck” under his breath.

“that’s really not fair” his voice quivers.

"you don't want me to touch you?" you ask sweetly. in a way that drives him insane.

your hand dances across his crotch through his jeans, his dick slowly revealing a more prominent shape under the blue fabric as he hardens. his dick leans toward his right leg, and your hand wraps around him over his pants.

"fuck, no. i mean- yes. shit, i do. just not now" he shakes his head, shifting in his seat as he positions his hands on the wheel at ten and two.

"so no touching?" you ask, rubbing him softly as he grows in your hand.

you caress his cock as his breaths become short, pulse elevating as you play with him. you feel his dick twitch as you squeeze him, and he grips the steering wheel tight enough you can hear the leather squeak.

"not while i'm driving baby, please" he whines, voice shaking as you ignore his plea and continue rubbing him, leaning over the seat so you can get a proper hold.

"you haven't been touched all day, huh baby?" you're close to his ear, and your breath hitting the skin on his neck has matt almost turning off the road.

it's taking all of his self control not to slam on the brakes. your distraction has him cautiously slowing down, despite there being no one around on the long stretch. distant headlights can be seen, a glowing blur, strained lights. but no one close enough to see your next moves.

"fuck, you're such a tease" he sighs, eyes glaring into the windshield ahead.

abruptly, you let go of his crotch. and he turns to you with furrowed eyebrows, like he hadn't just requested you stop touching him.

"you said not while you're driving. so now you can wait" you can shrug, innocently snuggling back into your spot, out of his space.

matt's mouth makes a tight ‘o’ shape, blowing out a stressed breath, like he’s whistling, but it’s silent. his nostrils flare quickly and he twists his hands on the wheel, as if to distract himself.

he rubs his hips into the seat beneath him again, and you watch as his jaw shifts, back teeth grinding momentarily. the subtle goatee on his face shadows his jaw, chin and upper lip. he looks irresistible.

matt tries to ignore his boner, but it's so prominent. he hisses through his teeth, trying to tuck himself into the band of his boxers with one hand, but anytime he swerves slightly, he gets annoyed and gives up. you bite your lip, trying to inhale back a giggle at his desperation.

"sweetheart, you need to do something about this. i-it hurts," matt's voice is strained with complaint.

you lick your lips slowly, staring at him. he turns his head to reciprocate a dark, sultry look in his eyes.

as much as you want to continue toying with him, you click your seatbelt off, gaining his attention immediately. pulling yourself up onto the leather car seat, positioning to get your knees, you guide your body over the centre console again.

this time, crawling your hands all over the leather details of his car, you grab the bottom of his seat to hold yourself up, dipping your head under his arms that are stretched out, you let your face hover over his lap.

you feel matt's eyes try to lower his gaze, to watch you over his thighs, but simultaneously force himself to be unaware of your actions.

“eyes on the road” you speak, delicate fingers pinching the zipper on his jeans to guide it down, pulling the material open to reveal his navy blue boxers, complimenting his olive skin.

you sweep your hand under the thin fabric to free his erection, tip already glistening with pre-cum. the build up from being tested all day finally coming to fruition.

"you got this worked up just from my touch?" you huff a laugh, mouth hovering over his cock once you finally free him completely.

matt's hips buck up, lower back no longer hitting the seat, arching toward you. stroking his cock in your warm hands, letting the blood rush to his pink, throbbing tip, your mouth is inches away from his length.

"this is so dangerous" his voice is unsteady, knuckles turning white with how hard he's gripping the wheel.

"shut up and drive, matthew." the second your words are out, you bridge the gap between your mouth and his dick.

quickly falling into a rhythm as you bob your head up and down on his dick, his hips jolt up into your mouth as he drives over a speed bump, making you gag.

"ahhhh, sh-shit, y/n" he groans, eyes fluttering as he tries to keep his focus on the road.

you grip his thigh, nails digging into his jeans. you hear his head loll back and hit the headrest with a thud, straining his neck as he swallows loudly. his eyes occasionally drop down to absorb the act you're putting on for him.

he drops a heavy hand onto your head, pushing your head slightly, making you take him deeper. he smirks, relishing in the choking sounds escaping your breathless moans. your hand comes up to place it on top of his, challenging him.

"oh, yeah," he huffs, interlocking your hands as he pushes your head to sink deeper and deeper with each dip of your head, making your eyes water and muffled noises escape, maintaining your breath through your nose.

he's trying his best to keep the acceleration of the car at one speed, his legs jerking and jolting every so often when he feels the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, making his driving unpredictable.

you feel his head turn and shift, checking his mirrors and blind spots, panicking anytime a car drives past on the opposite side of the road.

the vibrations of your moans combined with the tightness of your throat as you choke around him is sending the sensation straight to his balls, being tightened by his jeans cupping them.

"you're gonna make me fucking crash, sh-shit" he whines, jaw dropping as moans sporadically fall from his tongue.

matt can't take it any longer, yanking you dramatically from his dick, popping your mouth off of him with a wet sound as you coughed into the air, finally gasping a clean breath. your hand instinctively wipes your mouth, covered in his pre-cum and your own saliva.

you look up at him with big eyes, and that sends him absolutely off the rails.

"that was so fucking risky, i can't believe you," matt adjusts his grip, accelerating as he finds a clear patch of a dirt road ahead, aiming for it. your arms leans toward his dashboard, flicking his indicator on for him. you grin mischievously, biting your lip.

"then pull over so you can fuck me properly" you demand, and feel his car swerve instantly as he merges off the asphalt.

he rotates the wheel, one hand over the other in a heavy handed way, to find a safe place to park. the tyres crackle with the texture beneath you changing to gravel. your hand continues to stroke his shaft, mouth drooling with the desire to suck him off again.

matt's abs are clenching hard, back coming off from the seat again with a wince as your thumb rubs the underside of his now wet, sticky, cock.

"baby you're killing me, h-hold on, please," he whimpers, big hand coming down to grip your wrist tight as he frantically tries to put his car in park, heavy pedalling the brake finally.

matt flicks his hazards on, taking precaution even in his most chaotic, desperate state of mind. when the car is secure, your mouth comes down to suckle on his tip, before sliding down the length of his cock again. matt finally drops his shoulders and eases into the seat comfortably, not having the added stress of driving.

"feels so good, holy shit," his eyes clench closed before he exhales, snapping them back open to watch you engulf him again.

slushing and slurping sounds overtake the music playing from the radio and matt chokes on his strained groans.

he knots your hair in his fist to pull you off again, but you continue rotating your wrist around his base. with your hair in his grip, matt pulls you to his face quickly, his jaw slack. there's a dazed look on his face, mesmerised by you as you lock eyes.

"don't stop jerkin' me off, baby" he begs, holding your face close to his, noses almost touching as you breath into each others mouths. you feel your pussy clench and grow more wet at his hopeless tone.

"don't fucking stop." he whispers, crashing your lips together, moaning at the taste of himself on your tongue.

the kiss is a mess, and trying to focus on linking your mouths in unison while stroking him passionately prove harder than you anticipate. you break the kiss, needing to watch your hand, but matt grabs your chin to turn you back.

"look at me. i'm s-so close"

"use your manners" you smile, pressing your lips together again, then breaking it, then kissing him again. he interrupts it with a gasp when you start pumping more vigorously.

"s-sorry. please. i need to look at you when i cum. so fucking pretty" he darts his eyes from yours, to your lips, his own lips shiny and perfectly pink.

you want to let him finish as fast as possible, squeezing him and stroking him strenuously, rolling your thumb over his tip and pinching it, getting him overly stimulated and out of breath. your lips brush, but don't fully meet as his breath shakes and he gasps and groans.

your hand is starting to cramp, but you ignore the pain as you fuck his dick with your palm, and matt raises his hand to grip the headrest of the passenger seat beside him, letting his hips adjust and thrust into your touch. "just like that, just like th-that" he cries out, blue eyes glued on yours as he tries not to roll them into the back of his head.

"ugh, fuck," he chokes.

projecting his hips upward as he throws his head back, matt finally releases, making a complete mess into your hand. you attempt to cup his tip, letting his hot, thick cum spray your palm.

the look on his face is pure euphoria, eyes heavy and breathing hitched. he grazes his teeth on your lips, trying to take you into another kiss, but he's occupied letting his orgasm play out. he looks so perfect when he's cumming, and coming down from it.

"feel better, my love?" you ask gently.

waiting for his response, you reach into the glovebox to grab tissues you know he conveniently has stashed, courtesy of it being chris's usual spot, and the mess he often brings to the car.

"i need to get out of these fucking jeans" he complains while readjusting the material of his crotch, making you chuckle as you clean your hand off, tossing the tissue onto the floor mat.

you pick yourself up, awkwardly trying not to collide with the sunroof as you start to climb into the backseat. giving matt a full shot of your ass, he slaps it lazily, still trying to regain his thoughts.

"get back here so i can help you with them" you say as you drop onto the tan coloured leather, leaning into the corner, back hitting the door.

"someone's gonna see us, y/n" he undoes his seatbelt, in contrast of his words.

"matthew, get your ass back here" you disregard his worry, knowing if you don't reassure him, or aren't stern, he'll let his stress consume him, when all you want is to make him feel good.

between the sun almost being fully set, the lack of liveliness surrounding you and the solid twenty percent on the glass, you're certain not a single soul would notice or care for what's bound to happen in the backseat.

"messin' with me all day and now you're giving orders" he ridicules, turning in his spot to brace the crawl into the back with you.

he shoots a glare at you as he supports himself, trying to keep stable. he presses his palm to the upholstered roof.

"and you're taking them, like a good boy" you affirm, starting to slide off your own pants, and panties, spread wide open by the time matt lowers himself to you.

"fuck" he lets out at the sight of you.

his knees are on the seat between your legs, and he shuffles his pants further and further down his thighs, hurrying to free himself.

he drops back onto his ass with an 'umph' sound, needing to get his jeans to his ankles, and when you strip free of your own lower half, you tug his off completely, throwing them into the front seat.

there's a considerable amount of room in the back, having the luxury of a mini van in your favour.

you scoot over to matt, who's man spreading, and stroking himself slowly. it only takes minutes before he's growing hard again, and you situate yourself on his lap.

his hands come to grip your hips, rubbing your skin soothingly, making you feel so small in his touch. he slides under the fabric of your shirt, and you help him remove it. your arms clash and collide with the roof, both of you giggling at the restriction.

he's looking at you like you're fuel to light a fire between his legs again, and it doesn't take long before he's erect, and all you want is to be filled.

"you just couldn't wait, huh?" he teases as he flicks hair off your neck, seeing it stick to your skin from the sweat forming.

you place your hands over his shoulders, pulling yourself closer to his chest. your exposed cunt is soaked already, and he knows he needs to feel you in the state you're in.

matt brings one hand between your legs, letting it brush up between your folds. he hums in delight, sliding through you with ease. you suck in a shaky breath as the tip of his middle finger traces over your pulsating clit, giving a light circling motion.

he arches his middle and ring finger underneath your entrance, palm to the sky.

"sink onto my fingers, baby" he directs, and you rise in your straddling position to align yourself perfectly.

slowly but surely, you let yourself get stretched out by his touch. his other hand is occupied by his own cock. he curls inside of you, grazing your inner wall.

you toss your head back and allow yourself to revel in the sensation. it feels good, but you need more. you grind onto his fingers, and matt notices your impatience.

he pulls you off him without hesitation and manhandles you, taking control by grabbing your waist and lining you up over his cock.

"this is what you wanted all day. isn't it, baby?" he tests. you nod eagerly.

you feel his plump tip tickle your pussy, a touch too light for your liking. you try to sway your hips, to gain anymore friction, but he has full advantage to start teasing you back now.

"fuck, please matt," you finally spit out, not having any desire to mess around anymore. being exactly what he needed to hear, he drops you onto his cock, a heavy and loud slap as your ass hits his thighs.

you lean back, gripping his knees, arching your back. finally being filled, you moan and squeak through tight teeth. letting out strained 'ohhh's' and 'fuck, yes, yes' on repeat, like a broken record.

"you ride my dick so fucking good" he slaps your ass, hard, making your body jolt as you bounce up and down.

your hands become unsteady, and you reposition to press up against the glass window. the windows are hazing over with steam. they're turning from black to grey, leaving a very distinct hand print. one matt probably has no intention of wiping clean.

matt starts kissing your neck every time your head drops to the side with pleasure, impossible not to whimper when he started nibbling on it. he gets more satisfaction out of watching you, giving you what you want.

“matt” you moan out his name, biting your lip after, trying not to make much noise. it's a natural instinct as you're usually never this far away from being heard.

“yes?” he asks. smartass. his beard tickles your skin as he rubs against you, inhaling your scent and the salty taste of your skin.

“i'm close, s-so close” you stutter.

you vigorously shake your head, trying your best to hold off your impending orgasm. he forces your hips further down onto his dick, driving you closer to the edge.

he pulls you into a deep, slow kiss for a few seconds and pulls away with your bottom lip in between his teeth. he starts tugging and pulling at your nipples with his fingers while using his tongue everywhere else, licking your chest and biting marks.

your core tightens and you gasp, giving matt a silent look that tells him you're about to release. you know he'll demand you look at him as you do so, so you take his jaw in your hand, probably grabbing a little too aggressively, but he doesn't seem to mind.

you hold eye-contact as you pull your faces close. you roll down onto him with all your weight, feeling his dick twitch inside you, and let yourself climax, hips jittery and weak. if matt wasn't holding you, you'd collapse.

he slides you off slowly, both of you watching the loss of contact happen. matt lays you down beside him as you catch your breath. you're both trying to escape your delirious states, sitting it total silence for a moment in the suddenly overwhelmingly hot car.

your faces are covered in sweat, and you're convinced you've been the least desirable that you have been all day. matt makes those thoughts disappear the moment turns to look at you, slouched in his seat, and huffs out a smile.

he slaps your thigh, using a grip on you to help him sit up. you love the afterglow plastered on his face, the interior light casts an orange shadow, and matt is looking at you with admiration.

"don't ever tease me like that again. not unless you want me to get into a car accident." he pants.

"no promises, knowing that's what it gets me." you giggle while turning into the seat, knowing you've been stirring the pot all day.

"shut up." he laughs.

end.

tag list: @luverboychris @recklessmatt @floofparker @teampurpleforlife @letstripsturniolo @imwetforyourmom @fake-sturniolos

[hyunjinsbelovedamericano]

Skz when their partner can't sleep

i couldn't sleep when i thought of this so

i can't sleep~

teeth rotting fluff,not proof read yet

Bangchan

He probably wouldn't be able to sleep either,and most of stays sleep schedules are wrecked so he would do a live with you.He would go on Channie's room and do whatever.Comments like"Why aren't you guys asleep?","Go back to bed" would fly through."I don't know what you guys are talking about,its 1 in the afternoon.You know time zones?"but stay know thats its 2 am where you are so your attempt on manipulating them failed

Minho

You guys would rate children's drawings,yk those tiktoks where the teacher rates their students drawings.Thats you guys but you're not teachers."Who is that supposed to be?" "Barney","Then why does it look like grimace if took he meth".You guys would probably receive noise complaints for how loud you'll be laughing,but they would laugh just as loud if they saw these drawings

Changbin

Watch rip-off movies,have you guys seen that video where benoftheweek was watching rip-off movies.Yes.Instead Ratatouille your watching ratatoing,instead of the bee movie you're watching plan b."This animation is giving me nightmares","This is torture".Changbin couldn't stop laughing at the names of the movies,"Who wrote this"he would be in tears

Hyunjin

This one is more wholesome than the previous,i feel like he would read poems to you,even better read HIS poems to you,they would be the cutest things ever😭😭,i think he would also make you some tea,massage your head whilst reading the poems.(I need a fanfic on this NOW),he would have such a soothing voice reading them and then scream in your ear(jk...maybe),he wants you to get your 8 hours even though that might mean that he can't

Han

He would eat midnight snacks with you,even though it's not midnight he'll still have snacks.You would try new foods,"This taste likes bbamba's foot","How do you know how his foot taste like?","..." ,you would go late night shopping at those 24/7 stores,han would be scared if its 3am,"why are you so scared","have you not seen those do not watch at 3am videos?"You would just laugh at him,he's such a child

Felix

As we know Felix,is a tiktok king.He would post tiktoks with you,you would explore so many trends and do almost all of them.You would also have a debate why the tiktoks should go on his account or your account,"I deserve this tiktok","No i do".You would do funny tiktoks,dance tiktoks etc.a lot of them would go in the drafts and you would also have a debate on which you should post,"I look like a rat in this tiktok.","Exactly"

Seungmin

This is also one of the wholesome ones,I feel like he would sing you to sleep.His soft gentle voice singing you melodies AHDSUDGDEIURRH that's too cute 😭,he would try to calm you down make you tired because who doesn't want to sleep.Especially with his vocals the song could be rock and he would somehow make it sound soft,he would sing your favourite songs and if you don't say a skz song he would add one in there

Jeongin

He would do skincare with you,you have a bunch of products so it would be quite time consuming."What does this do?","Something".You would take pictures with face masks on because it's a vibe.You would also go online shopping for more products,"Buy the rose jelly one ","No" he would add it to your cart when your not looking,when it arrives and you ask him about he would pretend not to know anything about it

[bunnliix]

The Invisible Strings that Bind Us - Chapter Two

Chapter Two! We have some good cute fluff because it's gonna start getting angsty after this chapter, so prepare for that. But for now, we have some wholesome interactions between y/n and the boys. For anyone that saw this posted before, no you didn't.

a.k.a., I may have had to make a couple changes to it after it went live that I forgot about haha

Masterlist

word count: 1.8k

warnings: food, canon skz chaos, I think that's it

Y/n woke up slowly, feeling a bit disoriented. She felt whatever was beneath her shifting, before she heard an Aussie accent. 

“Good morning sunshine.” She heard, opening her eyes to see Chan looking down at her.

“Huh? What the fuck? That wasn’t a dream?” She mused out loud, forgetting that she wasn’t thinking about it. She heard laughter coming from across the room, finding Changbin and Han bent over laughing.

“This isn’t a dream, we promise you. Now, do you wanna sit up?” Chan asked her, to which she nodded. With his help, she sat up and moved to sit against the back of the couch. 

“You can stop laughing at me, god dammit. It wasn’t that funny.” She lightly glared at the two men. It really wasn’t that funny, honestly, she was ready to slap them. If only they were in reach of her.

“Guys, chill out, please.” Chan scolds the two members, raising an eyebrow at them. The boys apologized to Y/n, bowing and saying sorry to her. She waved away their apologies, telling them it was fine. She really didn’t mind, but it’s still not fun to get laughed at.

“So, where do we go from here?” Y/n spoke up, wondering what would happen now. It may not have been the ideal soulmate meeting, but obviously fate didn’t care about that. There may not have been a big outward sign that they were, but she had never felt more at ease with anyone else ever. Even prior girlfriends she had, that she almost thought were her soulmates, never made her feel this right as these eight boys were right now.

“Well, seeing as you landed right in our laps, and also Binnie has our initials plus one more set, and once we match yours up with the last initial, I’d say you’re our soulmate. We can figure everything else out from there.” Chan said, taking charge of the situation. 

Y/n told them all her full name, and her initials matched up with the last set on Binnie’s arm. This prompted Felix to come over and hug her, whispering in her ear how much he’s glad to have found their last soulmate. He laid his head on her shoulder, his arms still wrapped around her, not letting go of her now that she’s here.

All of the boys’ phones went off, pushing them to check and see who’s messaging. Hyunjin groaned, “Ugh, we have to head back to dance practice, they’re looking for us.” He told the rest of them. This prompted many complaints and cries, the boys not wanting to leave their newest soulmate yet. 

“How long do you have to practice? I can just stay here, honestly, it’s not that big of a deal. I have my phone and I can entertain myself till you all return.” Y/n said, smiling up at them. She didn’t mind being by herself for a little while, it would give her some time to process everything that’s happened.

“If we’re lucky, an hour? Depends on how much of a hardass Minho-hyung is today.” Hyunjin replied to her, not managing to dodge the slap from the aforementioned person. He rubbed his shoulder, feeling the pain from the hit.

“Yah! I don’t want to be away from our soulmate either, but keep it up like that and I’ll make you practice for hours.” Minho snapped back at Hyunjin, looking annoyed.

“Okay, let’s chill out, okay? No need to get violent.” Chan tried to pacify the situation, and thankfully it worked

The boys begrudgingly packed up, Minho leaning in close to Hyunjin as they left, telling him that he’d make a nice snack after 20 minutes in the airfryer at 180 degrees. Y/n laughed as she watched them leave, before moving to sit against the armrest, getting comfortable. She decided to think about her situation later, and grabbed her phone, opening up tiktok and scrolling the time away.

An hour later…

Y/n hadn’t realized how much time had passed, and when the door to the studio opened, she jumped and threw her phone up into the air, as she panicked. She however, managed to not fall off the couch, but her heart was running a thousand miles a minute as she tried to calm down. She held onto her chest, looking at the door to see the entirety of the group standing in the doorway, a couple of them trying to hold back their laughter, as others looked concerned. 

“Could give a girl a bit of a heads up, yeah?” She said to them, a bit over the panic.

“We didn’t think you’d be that absorbed into whatever you were doing, honestly.” Chan replied to her, moving to grab her phone from where it had been thrown, and bringing it over to her. 

She sat up, letting Chan sit down next to her. “That’s fair. I didn’t realize an hour had passed, to tell you the truth. But that’s because I’m bad at telling how much time has passed.” She explained. She truly had very little concept of time. She could look at the clock and five hours had passed when it only felt like it had maybe been an hour. It was one of her greatest weaknesses.

“Don’t worry, some of them get like that too.” Felix piped up, moving closer and sitting on the arm of the couch. “Chan especially, the man works and zones out while doing so.” He continued.

“Yeah, and the rest of 3racha are the same way.” Hyunjin pointed out, to which Han hit his arm. 

“Yah, we’re not that bad!” He shouted, pouting afterwards. His little quokka cheeks made an appearance as he did that.

“I don’t think I believe that.” Y/n told Han. 

He continued pouting, even his newest soulmate was being so mean. He couldn’t believe it, and there were giggles from his other soulmates, showing that they were on her side, not his.

“Well now that you’re all back, and I assume free from idol duties for a little while, I’d like to talk about where we go from here, now that we’ve confirmed I’m your last soulmate.” Y/n spoke up, trying to steer the conversation in another direction.

“Well, I think the first thing to discuss is how prepared you are to be the soulmate of eight other people, who I assume live very far away from where you are from?” Felix asked her.

“Well, considering that I’m from Canada, that’s not horribly far, but still a bit farther than I think is reasonable. So I think I’d be moving here, and not the other way round.” She told them, starting to think about the logistics of moving here.

“Ah, yeah. You’d have to move here, but we can help you with every step you need to take. We wouldn’t leave you to do it all alone.” Chan turned to look at her. “We’d have to move into a bigger place too, unless you’d want your own space?” He continued.

“I wouldn’t mind either option, really.”

“Okay, that’s fine, we can sit down with management and get that figured out. They can also help us look for a place for you as well, just as an option.” Chan said.

Y/n nodded, fine with that. She wasn’t picky, it really wasn’t a big deal to her where she’d be living. She’d just be happy to be near her soulmates, honestly.

Everyone went silent as Y/n’s stomach grumbled, the girl herself curling in on herself to try and hide. 

“And maybe now is a good time for food.” Felix said.

“I’m hungry!” Changbin shouted, making a couple of the boys chuckle.

Chan stood up, holding a hand out to Y/n, who took it as she stood up as well. He pulled her along as they followed the rest of the boys towards the JYPE cafeteria, as it was the easiest place to get actual food. It thankfully wasn’t that packed when they arrived, and the boys quickly picked out their food, while Chan helped her decide on what she wanted. She went for some tteokbokki, and the other boys decided that they didn’t mind sharing bites of what they chose, so that nothing was wasted if she didn’t like it

Y/n tried bites of everyone’s food, and enjoyed most of it, with a couple exceptions. Despite that, everyone enjoyed their lunch, and after everyone finished and cleaned up the table, they all headed back up to their practice room, deciding it was a better place to talk than squeezing into the studio.

“So, obviously we have to tell management about this, and also figure out how long you can stay here before heading back to pack up your stuff.” Minho spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, and I have to talk to my university and try and get that figured out as well. I’m almost finished with my degree, so I’d like to actually finish it off fully.” Y/n told them.

Wows came from a couple of the younger boys, and Y/n blushed a bit. 

“What do you study?” Seungmin asked her.

“History is my major in university.” She told them, proceeding to tell them some of the subjects she’s studied within history. She talked more about her favorite periods or topics to study, after the boys asked some questions about what in history she enjoyed and why she decided to study it as a degree.

The group continued talking about their own hobbies and other things they’d like to do in life, as Chan moved to check his and the others schedules, as well as notifying management that they needed to have a meeting. He found their schedules to have been cleared for the day, after he got a response from management that they could have the meeting in 30 minutes. 

“Well, good news and maybe good news?” Chan piped up, everyone else going silent, waiting to hear the news. “So, we now have a free schedule for the remainder of the day, but we also have a meeting with management in 30 minutes.” He finished. 

A round of groans commenced at Chan’s announcement, as the boys dreaded the meeting with the managers. Y/n looked around in confusion, wondering why they were reacting this way. 

“What’s so bad about the meeting?” She asked, tilting her head slightly in confusion.

“They’re not fans of the bureaucracy of being an idol, so they dread meetings with our managers and team.” Chan explained, rolling his eyes at the boys’ antics.

“Ohhh.” She understood now, it made sense that the whole bureaucracy of being an idol would be boring. She herself didn’t enjoy those things either, let alone how much of this administrative stuff goes on in the background of idol agencies.

The boys decided to go change into something a little less casual for their meeting, and thankfully, the boys had something that she could fit into. It wasn’t much, but it fit and didn’t look horrible on her, so that was what counted. They just joked around and the boys fought playfully until about five minutes till the meeting, when they all headed up to where the meeting was to take place, where they arrived just in time. Chan did a head count, before he pushed and held the door open for all of us to enter.

Prev | Next

Taglist: @queen-thiccness

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

Hey

Want to know your opinion, how would you improve some arcs of toh characters, like Amity, Hunter, Lilith, Willow, Gus and probably anyone whose arcs you think are bad-written?

good question! let's see,

luz: i have mostly no complaints about her character but i wish they made it clear that her running off to the boiling isles was not ideal. i don't entirely blame her because she was a child and she was looking for a way to avoid going to camp, but the show starts off implying that luz's escapism was a bad thing, but then they kinda contradict that in the end, by letting her have access to the boiling isles forever.

also her s3 arc with her palisman was just overall poorly written. it was supposed to be an emotional and wholesome moment but it didn't have that impact on me. if luz's greatest wish was to be understood, they should have built on that more. i mean, it's not like no one understood her, all of her friends and found family in the boiling isles seem to understand and empathize with her. it just felt like the writers pulled this revelation out of their asses, and the fact that stringbean was inexplicably a shapeshifter didn't help their case.

amity: i would keep some parts of her initial characterization, like her ambitious nature and her resting bitch face energy. even if the idea was to make amity grow into a more cheerful person, it doesn't make sense that it happened so quickly. imo her characterization was at its best when she was warming up to luz but not entirely nice to other people (like during the grom episode). i really liked her cold, standoffish behaviour and i think it would have been nice if she had kept some of that, while still being a better person than she was in the beginning.

also, like i said in another post, she should definitely have goals of her own. her character shouldn't have been reduced to "luz's girlfriend". i would definitely show more of her interacting with the other characters (and these interactions and conversations aren't about luz) and pursuing her own dreams. i think steven universe did this best where connie liked steven a lot and she did hang out with him, but she also had her own life and her own dreams to chase.

hunter: i wouldn't put him in a relationship with willow, or anyone, for that matter. the poor boy has a lot of trauma he needs to work through and based on the stuff that he's said, it's clear that he doesn't know how healthy human interactions work, let alone a romantic relationship.

i would make his arc about slowly healing through his trauma or at least being able to express his emotions, instead of suppressing them for willow's sake. i think it could have been done, despite the time crunch. he needed time to grieve flapjack, to grieve himself after being possessed and almost killed by his abuser, and to slowly start his healing journey.

the others would definitely support him through it, but that's what he needs at the time, not a badass girlfriend.

lilith: i think her redemption arc started off okay but then everyone forgave her too quickly. it wasn't as bad as catra's because lilith did put a little effort into trying to be better, but she still needed to do more before she could have been forgiven.

so either i would extent her redemption arc and let the other characters, especially eda, stay mad at her a little longer before she gets forgiven. or i would just keep her as an antagonist.

they didn't even explore her trauma of being in a cult and the emperor's coven never chased her down after she left. not to mention, her experience of being in the emperor's coven is never relevant to the plot. she could have given luz inside information or talked about belos' potential weaknesses, it was such a missed opportunity.

willow: her arc with amity was not terrible and i like that she was allowed to take her time to trust amity. this is more about amity than willow but i think it would have been nice if we saw amity making more efforts to gain willow's trust. her apology in understanding willow was good but they kinda glossed over the fact that amity wasn't just "letting her friends bully willow", she was also bullying willow.

i think we needed more of willow and amity trying to mend their friendship, instead of lumity being the main focus after that one episode.

and in general, willow deserved a bigger role in the series. for the longest time, she was just luz's friend and then they forced her into a relationship with hunter, which did not work at all.

if her intended arc was to work on her insecurities and get more confident over time, they should have shown more of that process. even Any Sport In A Storm was mostly about huntlow (and hunter, to some extent) then willow. and let's be honest, the whole "half a witch" thing was dragged out more than it needed to be.

gus: okay, buckle up because i think i have the most grievances with gus. i need to make this clear. GUS WAS SO UNDERUSED.

i'm sorry. this guy is a child prodigy who can create illusions and use illusion spells to look into people's minds and force them to relive their worst memories?? why was this not more relevant to the plot? gus is such an insanely skilled witch and yet he's always pushed to the back for some reason. he has the most versatile and useful skillset but he never gets to use it, it makes me so mad!

even him looking into belos' mind was only used for that brief moment where he admits that he knew hunter was a grimwalker, but didn't want to force hunter to talk about it. that's it. we get no further conversation about it, gus never addresses the other stuff he saw in belos' memories like him MURDERING his brother and creating all the grimwalkers and god knows what else??

also just the fact that he's able to psychologically torment people with illusions is such an OP move that the series just kinda glossed over. it was used in a few episodes, but it could have been used to a greater extent. i just think that gus could have been such an interesting and powerful character, if he was given enough spotlight.

he also had a good thing going with mattholomule but instead of making that canon, they went for huntlow. i'm not saying that gus has to be in a relationship (or any of them, for that matter) but why create a new rushed ship when you already have a perfectly good one to work with?

i also find it weird that gus and willow were supposedly best friends but we got very few moments between them. i would have loved to see more of their friendship, and more focus on platonic relationships in general.

so yeah, if i were to rewrite gus, i would definitely give him a lot more spotlight. heck, given his powerset, he has the potential to be the main character even!

belos: i've mentioned it a lot before but belos deserved a more climatic end to his arc. all of the implications of religious trauma and puritan culture was thrown in the trash in s3.

he was actually such a compelling villain, genuinely intimidating and with an interesting motive and backstory. what was the point of crafting such an interesting character, just to be like "lol he's evil murder his ass"?

i'm not even mad that he died, i'm just mad that THAT'S how he died. i was expecting his death to be something ironic and self-inflicted, like the people from the human realm being horrified by him and killing him. maybe even burning him to death, the same way witches were burned at the stake. buuuut no, we get king, raine and eda stomping on his corpse because haha that's funny. hunter didn't even get to be a part of all this, and he was the one who deserved closure, he was the one who deserved to see his abuser face consequences of their actions, not fucking eda and raine.

and that part where he tries to convince luz that he was just under a terrible curse was just.. so childish. and not in-character childish, but just childish writing. it was just so ooc for belos, he is a manipulator but this wasn't how he manipulated people. i guess you could argue that he was just too desperate to survive but eh. i think it could have been written better.

eda: i don't have too many complaints here, i think she was probably the most well-rounded and compelling character in this show. her arc about the owl curse was interesting and very relatable to me, as someone who is epileptic. her relationship with raine was the best in the series imo.

the only thing i would change is, as I mentioned earlier, i wouldn't make eda forgive lilith so easily. i also think that she kind of lost her "morally grey parental figure" edge by the end of the series, and i honestly liked that part of her a lot, so i would keep it. but that's just a personal preference.

raine: they were definitely a very interesting character, i just think they deserved more screentime. most of their role in the story was surrounding their relationship with eda, which was very compelling, but we could have gotten more of their character outside their relationship.

the members of the emperor's coven, as a whole, could have been used better in the series. but for a side character with medium relevance to the plot, i'd say raine was written pretty well.

[frickingnerd]

edelgard dating ferdinand's sibling

pairing: edelgard von hresvelg x gn!reader

tags: wholesome fluff, mentions of ferdinand & edelgard's one sided rivalry, reader doesn't care about status/nobility

there was this one-sided rivalry between ferdinand and edelgard that everyone in the black eagles knew about! especially you, as your brother always brought it up to you…

despite ferdinand being your brother, you never really cared about their rivalry. that was their thing and you wanted nothing to do with it!

you kept a bit of a distance from edelgard. at first, she thought it was because you disliked her, due to your brother. but when you stopped a little quarrel between edelgard and ferdinand one day, she realized that wasn't it

“ferdie, leave the girl alone! it doesn't matter if she'll be the emperor some day or not. she's a student just like you and me right now and we should all be treated the same!”

edelgard was a bit perplexed by your choice of words. nobody had called her a ‘girl’ unless they wanted to put her down. but you sounded so genuinely well meaning. and then the whole thing about not caring that she'll be the emperor one day…

it was refreshing for edelgard to know you didn't care about her status. she suspected that after listening to ferdinand talk so much about status and nobility that you must've grown sick of it…

edelgard begins to actively seek out your company after that little incident. ferdinand continues their little rivalry, but edelgard is now much more focused on you than she ever was on ferdinand

the two of you quickly become friends, much to your brother's complaints and it doesn't take much longer for the two of you to start dating either

you try to keep it a secret at first. while edelgard worries that things won't be the same once others know about you too, you worry that ferdinand will be a bit overprotective once he finds out you're dating his rival!

and when your brother does find out eventually, he can't stop wondering what it'll mean for his future, now that his sibling is dating the future emperor…

but you never cared about that. you didn't date edelgard because you hoped to rule alongside her one day. you date her because you love her and that's all

[wibixthecowboy]

Play the Song: Chapter 12: As we Breathe

Task Force 141 needs a new sniper and despite their complaints, they're assigned Flash, a joke-making, ABBA-listening, 20-year-old sharpshooter with better aim than the whole team combined. In other words, Ghost is practically handed the love of his life but he needs time to adjust because she's a firecracker.

Warnings/Tags: !graphic depictions of panic attacks!, references to suicide attempts (no descriptions), references to SA (no descriptions), Age gap (20/30-32), gore, descriptions of injury/blood/wounds, justified angst, tooth rotting fluff, slow burn, protective ghost, family dynamic, big brother soap has an attitude problem, father figure Price, wholesome brother Gaz, touch starved Ghost, eventual smut, praise, choking, thigh riding, unprotected (wrap it up people), size kink, oral f receiving, ghost will do anything to get his dick sucked, idk I’m sure it will get dirtier as I go, shifting POV  

A/N: I know what you all want and I am here to give it to you. Enjoy my two, severely emotionally underdeveloped loves interacting in (somewhat) non-deadly scenarios. 

Words: 6.7k

Side note: All of these characters are fictional! Please don’t be weird about their real life actors, leave them out of this and be respectful!

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Tag list: @urfavsunkissedleo @butskii @abbiesxox @itsasecrets-things @thatonewriterthatnooneknows @copiasratscheese​ @Sheviro-blog

★Flash

     “Will you just take the fucking applesauce?” Gaz’s voice is bordering a whine and Flash doesn’t feel the least bit guilty when she declines again. She is hungry, but her hunger doesn’t outweigh her need for entertainment. For something other than the dusty novel she’d snatched from Price weeks ago and the small window to her left.

For the last three days, she’s been stuck in her bed. Her only solace being short trips to the bathroom and the horrible nurse service being provided in shifts by Soap and Gaz. Both arrive either so guilt ridden or angry that their conversations are reduced to mumbled words.

After she’d passed out in the truck- passed out, not died, (a correction she’s had to make every time Soap decides to give her another rundown of what he likes to call her ‘Rick Grimes’ moment) the team was able to stop enough of the bleeding and get her to the nearest med bay before her heart stopped pumping.

She’d been kept sedated for the next four days, lulled into a hazy half conscious state by a concoction of epinephrine, morphine, and god knows what else. The magic drug- a more advanced and highly addictive form of a stim shot, had practically healed everything. By the third night, she’d been able to lay on her back without pain, and by the fourth, her injuries were reduced to bruising and two half healed and itching cuts on her shoulder blades and forehead. When the doctors had given her the order to ‘take it easy’ and ‘stay in bed for a few more days’ she’d nearly laughed in their faces. But after an awkward ride back to the base with Price, it was made clear that she’d be on her ass until the doctors cleared her.

Since then, she’s been rotting away in bed. With the fog of a rather severe concussion gone and only a slight wobble in her step, Flash felt confident enough to get back into training. Others, not so much.

“Stop coddling me and I just might.” Her words, although bitter, are spoken through a half smile. The joints of her legs ache with the need to move. She can’t remember the last time she’d gone longer than a day without some sort of physical exercise.

“Oh for fucks sake. Just take it.” Gaz lets out a frustrated groan and tosses the container and spoon at her blanketed legs. They land just shy of the unread paperback by her shin. A copy of ‘True Grit’ that Price had silently handed to her after she’d begged him to let her join their next raid. “Maybe Ghost will spoon feed it to you if you ask nicely enough.”

His hand freezes against the door handle and Flash’s eyes widen. That was the first Ghost had been mentioned since the incident. After his freak out. No one had spoken to her about it, so she didn’t bring it up. Other than foggy memories of him sleeping in a chair next to her bed at the med bay- his head lolled to the side in a way that made her knees weak. Ghost had been absent.

“Just eat the food.” Gaz says nothing more before slipping from her room and shutting the door gently behind him.

Guilt coils her stomach into a tight knot and the game that she’d been playing for the last few days loses its appeal.

The applesauce is dull and pasty, and when she swallows, it sticks in her throat like mud. The first night she’d woken up from her drugged sleep, she willed her memory to clear, to give her a picture of Ghost’s face that wasn’t blurred with tears and blood loss. But it was useless. After that, avoiding thinking about the last few moments in the truck had been easy. Until now.

Although every sense of hers had been compromised, her brain had no problem recalling every point of contact that Ghost had made. As if her body remembering the gentle way he held her hand against his cheek was more important than remembering to breathe. As if it still is. The healing drugs didn’t touch the burns left by his desperate hands.

The scraping of her spoon against the nearly empty plastic cup does nothing to drown out the now crashing waves of memories. Him grasping at her legs and shoulders to haul her to the truck, begging her to keep her eyes open, removing his mask. The last bite of her applesauce tastes of brine and copper and it gags her. When she coughs the skin of her hand comes back splattered with shining red. Stumbling to the bathroom, Flash drops to the blessedly cool tile in front of the toilet but the food weighs heavily in her stomach, refusing to move despite the foul taste in her mouth. When she looks down there’s a splatter of pureed apple across her right hand where the blood stained just moments ago.

Avoiding her two mirrors, Flash rinses her hands, ties her hair back, and changes her clothes for the first time in three days. She needs out, and god help anyone who tries to stop her.

_____

     The hot Las Almas sun burns the sensitive skin of Flash’s scabbed and stitched shoulders and sends a steady stream of sweat gliding down her spine that drops to the dusty dirt road just a few minutes from their base. She’d found it while stalking Ghost on one of his runs after a dull morning of training. Now it serves as the perfect place for her to slip away unnoticed and run until her feet bleed.

She’d been going for about an hour already, entranced by the steady thump of her braid against her back as she let the hot afternoon sun dry the waves that so violently threatened to pull her under. An angry, clouding storm of failure covers every expanse of her mind. She’d failed the one chance she’d been given. Price had finally given her an in, a way to prove what she’d so desperately been trying to show them, and she’d blown it in less than an hour.

A familiar crunch of tires sounds from behind her and she moves to the edge of the rough dirt road, giving the truck room to pass, but it slows to match her pace. When she glances over, she nearly stumbles on a loose stone. Ghost is sat in the driver's seat, one arm steering at the base of the wheel and the other holding a bottle of water out the window.

“You don’t have to say anything, just take the water and I’ll leave.” His voice is withdrawn, quiet in a way that tells Flash that he understands her need for silence. And when she takes the bottle from his bare hand, the faded scars only prove her right.

He watches her drink and she pretends not to notice as the water wets her parched mouth and throat. When she finishes that one, he gently pulls it from her grasp and another is pressed into her empty hand. Flash sips this time, breathing deeply between swallows, catching the breath she hadn’t noticed she’d lost. His gaze falls to her shaking knees and the shivering of her strained thighs and she waits for him to admonish her, to order her back to the base and put a padlock on the door this time, but he only turns away to set the empty bottle somewhere in the back seat.

“Do you want to drive with me?”

The question catches her off guard. The softness with which its spoken, still detached and hesitant but sentimental nonetheless. She opens her mouth to deny, admit that she’s ran this far to be alone, but the aching in her chest tugs towards him like a magnet.

Silently, she rounds the car, slides into the passenger seat, and Ghost continues driving wordlessly down the path, at a leisurely unhurried speed. With the windows down, the hair that had fallen from her braid flutters around her face in the light wind, tickling the bare and damp skin of her neck. She licks the dry skin of her lips and tastes the salt beaded at the bow of her mouth.

The slow roll of sand dunes calms the racing of her heart and she syncs her breathing to their soft shapes, in with the incline and out with the descent. Her sweat slick legs stick uncomfortably to the warm leather seat but the relief of resting her strained muscles surpasses the discomfort.

Flash closes her eyes against the bright setting sun, oranges and yellows shine brightly in the sudden darkness and the knot in her stomach loosens enough that she can fill her lungs completely. Fresh air, spun with the sappy golden light spilling across the desert blows across her face and cools the twin trails trickling over the curves of her cheeks. Salt spreads across her tongue, but this time it carries something much heavier. They come faster now, rivulets running and turning into streams that course over her chin and down her neck, bleeding into the sweat soaked collar of her shirt. She doesn’t open her eyes as the crushing weight of the fear she’d felt sets in. So she cries. She cries for what could have happened, what would have happened if she hadn’t pulled herself from the water, and hates every second of it.

Then a warm hand is nudging her own. Ghost, in a silent mimic of her gesture from days before, wraps his smallest finger around her own and squeezes. The fear lessens, pulling back to a dull throb against her ribcage. She doesn’t open her eyes as she unwraps their pinkies and slides her hand into his to lock their fingers in a tight hold. His hand envelops her own, warm and comforting, and she fastens herself to him like a tether to a dock. Afraid that if she lets go she just might drift out of reach.

They say nothing as they cling to each other, and Flash doesn’t dare turn her now open eyes to Ghost, afraid that she’ll snap their tether by acknowledging it. So she keeps her gaze on the pinks and purples sprawled across the dimming sky and tries to ignore the burning disappointment when one final turn brings the familiar concrete building into view.

“Can we do one more loop, I can’t- I-” She begins to ask, faltering when Ghost obliges without hesitation. And a burning sense of endearment spreads so quickly through her that the stinging behind her eyes recedes. Blinking away the thick tears still lining her lids, Flash sniffs once and then sags further into her seat.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His question is a formal invitation, an obligated question. One she’s been asked on multiple occasions and refused each time. She could ignore it now and it wouldn’t be brought back up, she knows that for a fact. But whether it's the burning need to confess or the lack of social interaction, Flash feels the confession loose from her mouth in a stream that she can’t seem to stop.

“I killed him with a rock.” Even though the words are spoken by her, the depravity of the statement makes her heart stutter. “When I missed with my knife I just smashed his head in with a rock.” The memory flashes through her mind, a stunted and bloody reel of pictures. “It was too easy.”

A long stretch of silence fills the space between them and Flash can’t help but worry he’ll slam on the breaks and shove her out, tell her just how damaged she must be to resort to something so animalistic, so beyond human norm. The weight of his hand in hers grows cold and she has the sudden urge to tuck herself into the small space at her feet, away from the heavy words floating between them and the piercing blue eyes at her side.

“When you know someone coming to kill you Flash, everything turns primal. It’s not something you learn through lectures. I’m sorry you had to learn so quickly.” His words are like a balm to her nerves. Petting back the raised hackles of her mind. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to stop it.”

“It’s the SAS Ghost. Things happen. I won't always have someone there to save the day.” She speaks firmly but turns to Ghost with a sad smile, the action has the dried tracks of her tears itching. When she brings her empty hand up to wipe her cheeks, the dirt lining her fingers has her squeezing it back under her thigh.

He lapses back into his familiar silence and Flash tries not to think about the dirt wiping from her hand onto his own clean skin where their palms meet. Then becomes increasingly aware of the dust clinging to her thighs and arms and how it rubs off onto the dark surfaces of the truck. Ghost doesn’t say anything. His unoccupied hand taps lightly against the steering wheel, another quirk that Flash quickly learned meant he was picking his words carefully.

“Knowing something is going to happen doesn’t make it any easier to cope with.” The tires crunch as dirt turns into gravel, they’re just minutes away from the base now.

His words, although validating in their own way, crack open a spot in her steeled mind that she is nowhere near ready to unravel. So instead of responding, she closes her eyes and lays back against the seat, focusing on holding the now cool night air in her lungs. She grips Ghost’s hand steadfastly. When they pull into the lot this time, her mind feels clearer and when she releases his hand to go inside, she feels a little less broken.

_____

★Ghost

     Although her eyes are focused on Price, taking in every word he speaks with an endearing efficiency, Ghost still watches them. Searching for the voided, lost look that most recruits adopted after their first incident. The look that he’d seen hints of while driving with her hours before. But the blue remains sharp as they scan the layout of the next warehouse they’d be raiding. A dilapidated barn just a few miles from Alejandro’s ranch. They would leave tomorrow to spend the next two days planning their approach with Alejandro and his team. His bag, packed the moment he got back from their drive, waits next to his door. It was his desperate attempt to keep himself in his room. To keep himself busy so he didn’t cross through the bathroom and to Flash’s door to press his ear against the wood. Just to make sure she was still there, still breathing.

It was easy to brush off at first. The shaking was from strained muscles and elevated heart rate from his morning jog. But that day, when she’d come over the hill looking half dead, still clutching a bloodied rock, the fear, and dread that gagged him was undeniable. The anxiety that shook his experienced hands as he attempted to wrap unwilling bandages over a seemingly unending expanse of flowing blood was beyond uncharacteristic. Soap had taken the gauze from his hands and shoved him to the side, working with Gaz to stop the bleeding. Her clouded, half-lidded gaze had sent him into a shaking, gasping sort of fit and it was Soap who had ripped the pill bottle from Ghost’s pocket and shoved two of the pills into his palm with shaking, bloodied hands before returning to monitoring Flash’s heart rate.

After getting her to the med bay and stabilized, he’d remained at her side for the entire stay. The gentle flutter of her eyelashes was his only respite as she drifted in and out of a drugged sleep. The only time he left her side was to slip into the staff bathroom and to down another cup of the never-ending supply of dirt instant coffee the front office kept. Price had ordered him back to the base hours before she was to be taken off the sedative. It was a short exchange over the phone, gruff, tired, and ending in a snapped command.

When Price returned with her that night, Ghost had been waiting in the window. He wasn’t sure what his plan was, but when he saw the way Price had to practically lift her from the passenger seat and brace her as she limped to the door, he’d retreated back to his room, unable to look at the bandages at her temple, ones he wasn’t capable of tying. Instead choosing to curl against his headboard and choke on uneven breaths until a drug haze pulled him under.

Looking at her now, nothing like the small girl, pale skinned and drowned in hospital blankets, the beating of his heart doesn’t slow. Soap, next to him, is doodling small flowers on the mission summary and Gaz sitting beside Flash, is tugging at her sleeve. After one particularly harsh tug, she whips around in her chair and levels him with a harsh glare, when she goes to turn back, her eyes catch his. The irritation melts from her brow and Ghost struggles to keep his breath steady when his gaze drops to the blue-green bruise that still curves along her cheekbone. Flash catches his line of sight and lets the hair tucked behind her ear fall into her face, covering the bruising entirely when she turns back to Price. But the image remains, permanently branded against the large corner of his mind she’s always occupying.

They go on like that for the rest of the meeting. Eyes occasionally meeting only to hover for a moment before flitting away. Acting like he hadn’t just watched her shatter in the small cab of his truck an hour before. He knew better than to push though, the need to just forget was more familiar to him than it should be. So he watches her take notes instead, careful little words in the spaces between paragraphs with a pencil he now recognizes as his own. Stolen from the space next to his paper, he hadn’t even noticed. And despite everything, amusement flickers in his chest, and a familiar warmth tightens his ribs. Ghost dips his head down to level his eyes with Flash, glancing at the pencil in her hands and up to her waiting gaze. She smiles at him. It’s half done, morphed into a slight grimace from the split in her lip, but it still carries her usual air of mischief. And he thinks that maybe, things might be okay.

_____

★Flash

     Flash is brushing her teeth when she sees Ghost again. Her hair still damp and curling from the shower she’d taken to scrub the dried sweat and dust from her skin. She’d also braved a look in the mirror. A small blue-purple bruise curves along her skin between her cheekbone and eye, a half healed split at her lower lip, and a stitched line at her temple were all that remained of her encounter. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but better than she’d been expecting. Her shower though, had run out of her allotted bathroom time and into Ghosts. It wasn’t the first time it happened, but when it did, he would politely apologize and leave her to finish.

But now, dressed in joggers and a delightfully worn shirt, he hovers in the open doorway. She wonders if he feels it. The pull.

He’s about to turn and leave when Flash finds herself mumbling through a mouthful of toothpaste, “Don’t leave I’m almost done.” She’s not quite sure why she asks him to stay, but she does.

Flash can’t help but smile at the way his socked feet shuffle awkwardly against the tile, not sure where to stand. It’s incredibly sweet, and the softness of the action only strengthens the pull that begs her to step forward and into him.

“So,” Flash starts, spitting her toothpaste into the sink before continuing to lazily brush in half circles, “do I get to see your face now? Or is that something you reserve for people who are near death?” In one smooth movement, she’s resting on the counter in front of him, hoping the toothbrush hanging from her lips hides the wince as her sore muscles strain. “Ya know, like a ‘I can show you but then I’d have to kill you’ type a’ situation?”

Ghost is silent, unresponsive to her prodding. Any other night he would have told her to drop it and go to bed. Maybe give her a snarky response if she’s lucky. But tonight he’s quiet, just as before. And then she sees it. The way his shoulders curve inward and the flickering of his eyes as they move to look at anything that isn’t her.

“You know it's not your fault right?” Flash’s voice is soft, the same one she’d use to coax a scared dog from a corner.

“What?” A whisper.

“It’s not your fault.” She slides from the counter, leaving her toothbrush next to the basin, she walks quietly towards him. Cautious, slow enough for him to back away, she reaches up to brush a hand against his face. It’s a daring move but he doesn’t pull away.

The cotton of the mask is warm from being so close to the heated skin of his cheeks. Golden lashes brush against them and their freckled surface as his lids shutter closed. Flash drinks in the rare moment of softness. Her mind drifts back to her last few moments in the truck, how warm the skin of his face had been and suddenly, she’s never wanted anything more in her life.

“Can I touch-” Her words breathe out into the empty space between them and Ghost’s eyes fly open, wide and searching her own.

“Blindfold, I - can you wear a blindfold?” His words are stuttered and rushed with a desperation she can’t even begin to understand. Flash offers him a silent nod and then the space in front of her is empty.

She lifts herself back onto the counter, just to busy herself as she listens to the opening of a drawer and the quiet whisper of him digging through clothes in his room. He returns with a beautifully patterned terracotta scarf. Like the one’s she’d seen at the market. He sets it gently in her lap but she pushes it back into his hands.

“Here, you can tie it. So you know I’m not peeking.”

He nods once before taking the brown fabric with shaking hands and folding it into a neat strip and leaning in close to wrap it gently around her eyes. Flash senses his hesitation as he pauses before tying the knot. Wary of the bruise beneath her eye. She gives her best reassuring smile and it seems to do the trick.

“Is that too tight?” He whispers and Flash shivers as his breath fans across her ear, light and warm.

“No. It’s perfect.”

There’s a gentle rustle of fabric and then his mask is resting on her lap. Nerves beat her heart up into her throat.

“Are you scared?” Her whisper is careful, spoken into the quiet space between them. A question spoken to him but a silent admission of her own.

“Yes.”

“It's only me.” She can’t help but smile at his honesty.

“That’s what I’m scared of.”

“Can I touch you?” She murmurs, and he hums a confirmation. It’s a quiet, broken noise.

A soft sigh breaks the silence when the pads of her searching fingers meet his cheek and draw upwards to a rather prominent cheekbone. She can’t help but smile at the heat she feels beneath her fingers, he’s blushing.

Quick breaths come from his nose, followed by two long exhales. Subtle enough that if she weren’t inches from his face would have gone unnoticed, but his warm breath falls against the small strip of her cheeks left uncovered by the scarf. Her heart swells in her chest when she realizes he’s attempting to calm himself.

“Why do you keep trying?”

His words catch her off guard and her exploring fingers come to a halt at his browbone. A displeased huff urges them on and to a soft brow. Flash takes a moment to think, but it doesn’t take her long to find a response.

“Because you deserve to heal.” Ghost turns his head into her hand, muffling a groan. It’s a noise unlike anything she’s ever heard before. An amalgamation of sadness and desperation that makes the blood in her veins slow to listen.

“Has no one ever told you that?”

“No.” He speaks into her palm, hiding his face as if she could see him through the scarf.

“Well, you do.” She smiles softly and flinches in surprise when his thumb brushes against the soft skin of her lower lip. He pulls back quickly,

“Sorry, I-”

“No, you’re fine.” Flash reaches down and grabs for his hand, bringing his thumb up to her lips again when she finds it. He takes a shuddering breath and she wishes for just a moment that she could pull the blindfold up from her eyes and look at him, see the way his body is reacting to her touch, rather than feeling, and hearing it.

“Your smile.” His thumb parts the plush of her lips, so gently she almost doesn’t feel it.

“What about it?” She can’t help but laugh at his odd remark.

His face under her hand moves, and a familiar divot forms under her ring finger.

“Oh good lord you have dimples?” She breathes against his hand.

“Just on the left.” His words are murmured, shy if she thought he was capable of such an innocent emotion. And in the warm darkness of the bathroom, without seeing the scars on his hands or the dazed look his eyes so often held, she realizes just how innocent he is. The boyish way he holds her face, similar to the way a child learning to write struggles to grip a pencil. Like the concept of touching someone without the intent of harm is as foreign to him as a new language. And the realization absolutely crushes her.

“Freckles, dimples, blue eyes. You must be a real stunner.” She teases, an awful attempt to fight the burning behind her eyes. The skin beneath her hand warms again and the overwhelming urge to throw herself into him is consuming, to wrap herself so tightly around him that their skin fuses and they become one. The thought is as terrifying as it is tempting.

“Far from it.”

She frowns at his words but the hand on her face smooths her brow in a gentle caress. Her next exhale comes shakily through her nose.

Braving the waters, Flash traces up the soft curve of his cheek and her fingers catch on slightly raised skin, silkier than the rest, a scar. It travels from his left cheekbone to his hairline just above his eyebrow.

“How did this happen?” Her imploring question is light and spoken without pressure. He could leave it unanswered if he wished.

“My father.” His response is quiet but it’s a scream to her ears. Images of him as a child, a defenseless teen screaming as he clutched his head in pain fill her mind in a rush. She quickly moves on. Feeling for more, battle-oriented scars, but she feels none.

“Do you have any more?”

A rumbling laugh vibrates down her arm and warms her chest.

“Plenty. Although the reconstructive surgeries helped, there’s always going to be a mark.”

“Where?”

A gentle hand reaches for hers and guides her fingers in an arc from the corner of his mouth to a point near his hairline. She traces the spot over on her own until she feels the slight change in texture, the jagged shape that whatever had cut him left behind. She didn’t dare ask its origin.

“Your scars make mine seem like papercuts.” A nervous laugh blows past her lips.

“And I hope it stays that way.” He glides warm fingers just inches from the stitches on her temple. “You already have enough.”

“Nothing near as cool as yours.” She protests, tracing his cheek once more to emphasize her point.

The room is silent, and for just a moment, she thinks she's ruined it and then he’s laughing again. Stuttered like he hasn’t had enough practice, and Flash wishes he’d never stop.

“What?” She asks, incredulous.

“I’ve never had someone call my scars cool.” The stuttered laughs come through his nose now, in gentle breaths of air that warm her own cheeks.

Another mostly nervous laugh looses from her parted lips at the absurdity of their situation. If someone told her a year ago, as she unabashedly stared at Ghost giving his lecture, that she’d be on the counter of their shared bathroom, blindfolded and committing his face to memory with her hands she’d probably laugh. And then file a report.

Flash smiles shyly before bringing her other hand up to gently cup his face, eager to change the topic. “Is this normal?” She breathes as he leans further into her, now pressing against the counter space between her legs. Heat radiates from him, warming her in a way she’s never felt before.

“Is what normal?”

“Wanting to touch you so badly my chest aches.” The admission makes her heart stutter in embarrassment and something warm and syrupy slows the muscles of her mouth.

“I don’t think so.” His answer is mumbled, and before she can feel the sting of rejection, he’s pressing his forehead to hers in an almost feline gesture.

Their lips are just inches away, all she’d have to do is tilt her head up and they’d be kissing. The thought sends her heart thumping so painfully that her stomach rolls with nerves. Enough that she just savors the closeness they have already.

“I feel like I’m going to puke.” She whispers to him with a nervous smile and instantly regrets it. There’s just something about his presence that loosens her tongue in ways it shouldn’t.

But then Ghost is laughing again and pressing his forehead harder against her own. “Me too.”

And the confession is orchestral.

Her arms reach from where they’re pinned between them and up into the soft curls at the nape of his neck. A muffled moan is pressed into the skin of her neck so she does it again, a gentle scrape through his hair. Tremors wrack his body in waves. Then he’s pulling away and her hands are slipping from his shoulders too soon.

“Off the counter, face the mirror.” Although his voice is still soft and shaken, it’s demanding enough that Flash doesn’t protest. She feels him reach around her for something on the counter, muscled chest pressing close to her shoulder.

“I’m getting some deja vu.” Ghost’s murmur is quiet and entirely self-indulgent.

“To what?” Flash’s brows furrow in confusion under the soft silk.

“Well uh-” His words stumble out, unprepared. “That night you took that pill?”

Flash’s stomach sinks and her tongue sticks to the roof of her mouth when she responds. “Uh-huh.”

“You were struggling a bit with cleaning the scratches. You couldn’t even hold the cloth.”

“Oh god.” Even with the scarf on her face, Flash still has to drop her head in her hands. “I didn’t do anything weird? Did I?” She thinks back to the table that morning, Soap's laughing and Ghost's not so subtle smile.

“No.” Ghost runs a finger slick with a paste that she quickly recognizes as the salve the doctor had given her for sore joints over her skin. Far from the scratches and cuts on her shoulders. She practically purrs at his touch combined with the cooling effect of the paste. “But you’re very touchy.”

Embarrassment floods hot through her chest and she starts to apologize but Ghost interrupts her again.

“Don’t apologize.” Those fingers drift up and to an unblemished space just past her shoulder. “Just be quiet and let me make up for my mistake.”

“You don’t have to-” Her words end in a sharp moan when his fingers dig into a tender spot against her neck. “Holy shit.” His fingers fumble a bit but he regains his composure quickly, returning back to the spot and rubbing delightful small circles against the knot. “Jesus-” Her mumbling is cut off with a soft hush and she finally gives in, dropping her chin to the heated skin of her chest as he loosens the muscles that had grown stiff after days in bed. When he reaches a spot along the arch of her spine, smoothing deep half circles into the muscle there, a broken whine falls involuntarily from her mouth. It’s entirely pathetic but she’s too far gone to care. This last sound seems to signal him though and he’s stepping back, dropping those magic hands from her lower back.

“Okay.” His voice is breathy ghost of a whisper and despite never seeing his face, Flash knows that if she were to pull the blindfold from her eyes, he’d be shaking and casting his eyes to the floor, those precious strawberry blonde curls falling across his forehead, and cheeks ruddy with the warm blush she’d felt just minutes before. But she leaves it tied neatly against her damp hair, even though her fingers itch to slide the soft fabric from her eyes.

There’s a rustling, Ghost is reaching past her to grab something from the counter and she can practically smell the anxiety leaking from his skin, along with something else she hadn’t noticed until now.

“Is that citrus?” She tries not to sound too surprised, she shouldn’t be. It had been one of the first things she’d noticed when flopping herself onto his bedding. Something she did not want to think about.

“It’s uh- oranges?” He sounds unsure, Flash is about to point this out but he continues. “My mum wore it.” There’s another brief pause. She can practically hear his internal debate over whether or not he should continue. “It’s- It helps with- anxiety.”

“Oh.” She stands there for another moment, not wanting to leave quite yet, but not having anything to say. He doesn’t move either, just stands quietly in front of her. “I like it.”

“Me too.”

Gentle fingers slide the scarf from her eyes, the light of the bathroom is blinding and she has to blink several times to clear the dots from her vision. When her eyes finally focus, she cranes her head upward from the soft cotton of his chest. Ghost’s eyes are staring into the mirror above her, at himself. There’s a small strip of exposed skin between his shirt and balaclava. She can see the collarbone that she’d whispered to so many nights ago.

“I’m going to bed.” She says to the strip, and without looking back at his face, turns and walks as calmly as she can to her room. Even though the racing of her heart screams at her to run, to hide, to grab him by his stupid masked face and kiss him.

The last thought scares her enough that she shuts the bathroom door with a bit too much force. The sound makes her jump. It’s entirely pathetic but the creeping sickness from this morning is gone, replaced with something much much worse. Something deadly, something terrifying, something that makes her want to laugh and cry. So she does both.

It doesn’t help.

_____

     Flash can’t wipe the love-sick smile off her face as she walks to their small kitchen. Her water bottle swinging in time with her steps.

“He won’t always be like that.”

The metal bottle clangs loudly against the concrete when her hand slackens in surprise.

“What?” She breathes, heart beating wildly in her chest.

“I said, he won't always be like that.” Soap says from the small couch in the ‘living room’. He’s draped himself lazily over the arm and is flicking through an old copy of the ‘New Yorker’. A cartoonish drawing of pointing Uncle Sam is printed on the front under bold red letters reading ‘I WANT YOU’.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She says calmly, swiping her bottle from the floor and continuing towards the sink, averting her eyes from the dramatic cartoon.

“Oh don’t play coy. You’re smiling like a fuckin’ teenager in love Lass. I know.” His tone isn’t accusing, if anything it's bored. Like he couldn’t be bothered to finish the conversation he’d started. “He’s true to his name. He’ll be kissing you like he needs you to breathe, and then the next mornin’ float right by you. Stings like a bitch. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“How do you know?” She asks over the flowing tap. “Did you two...” Her half question drifts, waiting for him to pick up. It takes the metal burning into her palm for Flash to realize the water is steaming, she tips the bottle over and starts again.

“Were we together?” He flips another page, casual, like he’s not admitting to fucking his best friend. “I guess you could call it that.”

“He wasn’t interested in that... stuff?” She thinks back to the way his hands trembled the first time he’d touched her, and the way he practically vibrates when their bodies come within inches of each other.

“No,” a devilish chuckle comes from behind the paper “we didn’t have trouble in that department.”

“So you were a thing?” She asks and is blindsided by a sudden burning in her chest. It curls around to tense the line of her shoulders, bringing them closer to her ears like raised hackles.

He finally lowers the magazine and shakes his head at her reaction. “No need to get possessive. It lasted about two months before he realized that fucking every ten minutes wouldn’t fix his shit load of issues.” His words immediately drench her in a cool wave, and an embarrassing guilt flushes high in her cheeks, along with a biting sympathy at his confession. “My feelings were unrequited, unfortunately.” He gives her a sad smile. “He needs someone who isn’t broken. He needs someone who can guide him out of the shit storm he’s been led into.” The magazine is flipped back open and brought back up, his tone turns curious. “Someone like you.”

She starts to deny, to tell him that she is far from unbroken, but Soap waves another hand at her.

“Don’t bother, I don’t care.” A plain lie. “I just wanted to warn you. He can be-” a pregnant pause splits his words, “he can be challenging. He’s got a cargo container of shit that he hasn’t even begun to unpack. It can lead to some pretty rough mood swings.” Soap puts the magazine back down. “What I’m trying to say is he’s a real piece of work, but if anyone deserves the help, it’s him. I just hope you’re the right person.”

Flash can hear the unspoken words ring through the air between them.

‘Because I wasn’t’

When Flash reaches Ghost’s door in the bathroom, away from the prying eyes still pretending to read the old magazine, she knocks softly, waits a few moments, and then knocks again. There’s no response.

He’s blocked himself off again.

Disappointed and trying not to think of Soap’s words, Flash slinks dejectedly back to lie in her bed. Her IPod still lay on her nightstand, nestled in the center of a neatly swirled nest of wires. Right where Ghost had put it her first night there.

Then for some reason, imagining him taking the time to do something so unimportant with so much care, for her no less, sends a wave of something nearing homesickness through her. A brittle sort of feeling. And for the first time in over five years, Flash has the urge to call her sister.

“This is not good.”

A/N: AHHH MY AWKWARD LITTLE BABIES. I hoped you loved this as much as I loved writing it. God I love unhinged relationships, they’re just *chefs kiss*.  

[mxtxfanatic]

I don't want to put this in the tags, since people are just having fun, but I figure you probably won't mind hearing my anon-complaints. I'm getting super annoyed by the recent influx of Jiang Chang related SVSSS crossover posts (and fics to a lesser extent).

Seeing JC interact with the PIDW world could be incredibly interesting, but the posts I keep spotting are all about the woobiefied fanon version of JC. JC and YQY are not all that much alike (JC isn't remotely loyal to WWX), and I don't think he'd get along well with LQG. The JC and SJ dynamic actually does seem like it would be fun to read, but with how toxic they both are it would be 'fun' more in the 'watching a car crash in slow motion' sort of way, rather then anything wholesome.

Anyway, mini-rant over!

Fanon: Everyone in svsss would just love Jiang Cheng!

Canon: Shen Qingqiu would take one look at Jiang Cheng and just assume that the natural state of PIDW requires a canon fodder villain to be killed. Assuming he was some previously no-named lackey, after the second time Jiang Cheng attacks Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t try to save him, anymore. Nobody else would have even cared to try.

Anyways, I know exactly what posts you’re talking about and exactly which blog keeps making them. Unfortunately for me, tumblr is trying this new thing out called “if the blog you blocked is a jc stan, the block doesn’t count,” so fuck people “having fun” in the tags. If I can’t have fun with canon on my own dash, no one is allowed to have fun with fanon on it, either 😤

[scarareg]

Percy Jackson and The Olympians Season 1 Review (3/3)

Part 1 • Part 2

What I dislike:

Poseidon appearing when Sally called him. Actually, shout out to that scene because it made me realize a different side about the whole "Gods' worlds view" I had not considered before! The main conflict if this series is the demigods being angry at their godly parents for not being present in their lives, but what we do not see is the human parents' POV. The Gods do not respond to them either. For a human maybe the God was the love of their life, but we know for a fact that there are demigods who share same parent and are the same age. That says it all. Gods sees these "epic romances" as another affair more. Maybe they had a good time and they found you incredible, but what to a human was a few months (maybe years,if you are lucky) of magic,for an immortal God that must be like a week or something. Not everyone is a Hyacinthus or Ariadne or Psyche,sadly. So I don't think he will be answering out of nowhere just because

Percy and Annabeth being already teased about "having a crush" on each other. In my opinion,the first book is to develop their friendship, the next books have the job to do the romance. So it feels like too much,too rushed, too soon for me

There is a lack of urgency throughout the show. Partly, it was because all the monsters walk slowly and never attacked or felt threatening at all . Making the trio miss the time limit made it worst, especially because there was not consequences. The war was supposed to have started, but it didn't because it didn't happen in the books either, so all of that was pointless.

I do not love that Percy has a sassy attitude towards Zeus from the beginning. I feel that showing him being nervous while talking with Zeus in Book 1 is a great juxtaposition to the end of Book 5 when he is confident and being his sassy self in front of all the Gods, shows character growth

Minor complaint about Olympus: all the thrones look the same instead of being designed according to each God. Wish they at least make Hera's golden,that happened in myths, it is canon

In the books Luke tries to kill Percy with a scorpion showing how he really is joining the dark side, here that didn't happen and that is disappointing

Annabeth following Luke and Percy to the woods while she is invisible is weird,isn't it? It does not makes sense why she did that and just makes you question her intentions and if she has done stuff like that before. I genuinely hate it

We do not get to see Percy having to choose between staying at Camp all year or going back with his mom. It is important because it shows what kind of guy Percy is and what his priorities are. He is a mama's boy and he going back to Sally speaks volumes about his loyalty and love for her

This version of Gabe did not deserve to die. He was just some dude, maybe useless but he did not hurt anyone or anything so the punishment is no proportional to his actions. If they town down the aggressions, is only fair to do the same with the punishment. Also, the casting does not hel. Mr Timm Sharp has a wholesome vibe. He really reminds me of Paul Rudd. I can see him playing the role of a loving father just like Paul did with Scott in the first two Ant-Man movies easily

This is not about the show itself, so I didn't know where else to put it but I genuinely love to see the interviews. The cast is super fun, have better chemistry just being themselves than in the show , and overall I have a better time watching them than the show,sadly

[tblsomedoodles]

Can we get more family web or adopted AU stuff? I want to see art of wholesome chaotic fluff. Family bonding, or one of them being stubborn to a fault about something. Just something other then the future apocalypse period. Maybe Donnie torment the guards in the seer au. Or more feral cat Leo. Mikey showing of his mystic powers to his pops. Or Raph getting roped into a tea party with a little girl and her teddy bears, who somehow has something they need.

Also I rewatched things and while rise Splinter was lazy he actually wasn’t a bad parent. ( I am admitting that I was wrong) He gave his kids freedom to do other things when they no longer showed interest in training, but made sure they knew enough to defend themselves from the average New Yorker. They had a well stocked kitchen at all times. In the situation with the demon rabbit Mrs Cuddles he stepped in and helped Raph get over his fear. I think the biggest thing that had set me off before was in the episode to return the movie they were so excited over a hug, and I guess my mind went “No kid should have to think the need to work that hard for a hug from their parents.” Anyway I guess something with rise splinter and 03 comparing notes on parenting would be nice too.

I could not resist Seer Donnie tormenting the guards : ). Hopefully it's enough chaotic silliness to make up for the fact it's for neither of the two aus you originally asked for lol

Donnie's loose and ready to break his record of how many guards he can take out before he gets recaptured : )

but yeah, as far as Rise Splinter goes, he is a very complicated character. I don't think he's a particularly bad parent either, when he tries, he's pretty good. My only real complaint about him is that, the older they got, the less he seemed try, at least until he found out about the Foot and realized his kids still needed him. Like, it's very clear he absolutely loves and cares for his kids. and he definitely gets props for those early years. Like that had to be hella difficult trying to raise four infants without a lot of the necessities we take for granted and not being seen.

so yeah, he's a very complicated character, which i like about him. Still wish it didn't take the foot clan showing up for him to realize his kids weren't as self sufficient as he thought, but hey, he got there in the end.

Thank you!

[totaldramafan-lauri]

EPISODE 6

N-no Alastor again......

......

.....OK, so....this episode needs multiple viewings for me to.....fully absorb everything that just happened......but......uh......I-I don't wanna just not say anything about it, so....here goes.....

-OK, fandom, you got me. You called it. Vaggie was an angel. Wasn't exactly the most surprising twist imaginable when everyone and their mother called it, but it was cool to actually see it. Th-the fact that she got her name because a misogynist named her was probably the biggest twist for me here, cuz HOLY CRAP, it makes so much sense. XD I remember when people used to haaaaaate Vaggie's name.....I-I honestly used to raise my eyebrows at it before I got used to it. That's neat.....

....But if there was one thing I DIDN'T call, it's Charlie not knowing. I legit thought she already knew. They were so close, and they've been a couple for years before the show, so I thought that already happened. B-but I....I LIKE this direction? I-I love Chaggie already, don't get me wrong, they're like the M&M of this show for me.....b-but their relationship has always kinda been....swallowed by the....EVERYTHING ELSE in the show around them. I-I'd love to see them get center stage! Will that happen, or will it just get brushed over? Dunno....but....either way, this cliffhanger KILLS ME just cuz I wanna know what happens next for them!

-NO ONE IN HEAVEN BUT SERA AND THE EXORCISTS KNOW ABOUT THE EXTERMINATIONS. PLEASE leave all your "Heaven is evil, what's the point of the hotel" complaints at the FLIPPING DOOR! We got a breakthrough! Yup, I never bought it for a second. The Exorcists are only ONE type of angel! There was no way they represented ALL of Heaven! The whole point of the story was that it's not a black-and-white conflict! If the whole story was just "Hell good, Heaven evil", what would be the point of that? You think the writers are THAT dumb?

Sera....seems to be the one in charge of making the decisions, but she's not evil, she's just doing what she thinks is right for Heaven. I'm pretty sure her mind can be changed. And Emily is so so so much like Charlie that them singing together was satisfying as heck! Adam and Lute are the clear bad guys here....

I love the confusion of "How isn't Angel rising to Heaven?" and how it kinda parallels to how Adam, who was once human, is still IN Heaven. Just cuz they're dead, doesn't mean they can't change. Vaggie had her wings torn off and fell. That could be Adam by the end of the show. But, what about someone in Hell rising to Heaven? Not even the angels have the answer. Because they're not evil. I LOVE that.

-Speaking of Emily and Charlie being alike, yeah, that second song was INCREDIBLE! Do I like it more than "Hell Is Forever" (which I've been listening too soooooo much over the week)? That's a high bar, so I dunno....but I love how this song is a follow-up to it, and it's very climactic.

-AUSTRALIAN CHERRI HECK YEEEEEAAAAA!!! Angel standing up to Val in....in only their....second episode together? Uhhhhh, aren't we moving too fast- I mean HECK YEEEEAAAA!! Drunk Niffty HECK YEEEAAAAA!!! More Huskerdust on the side HECK YEEEEAAA!!!

.....The running gag with Sir Pentious killed me. XD His obvious crush is so cute. Definitely a highlight for me. Better luck next time, dude.

-But yeah....my favorite thing about the episode (besides learning that Heaven isn't evil) is the Vaggie thing. I'm REALLY on the edge of my seat to see how this goes! Oooooo.....I-I'm so nervous! Obviously Charlie's not gonna be MAD, but....OK, maybe she'll be mad? But she won't STAY mad....I-I can't believe I'm looking forward to drama between those two....They've been so wholesome.....but I dunno, I wanna see a story about them, I guess....

[marvelousmagicalaura]

Thoughts on The Bands of Mourning

Everything about this book is a bundle of pure fun. It’s just like an Indiana Jones adventure!

The breakout character this time is definitely Steris. I was shocked to find out a character could develop so much in such a small amount of pages. But, Sanderson did it with Steris. And to me, she’s insanely relatable. I was literally saying aloud “SHE’S JUST LIKE ME FR 😭” So much I could gush about her omg.

Wax x Steris is better than Vin x Elend. There, I said it. I also started to become a fan of Wax’s character arc - his arc of finding his true position in the world. Wax’s arc feels more subtle than the Era 1 characters and his personality is definitely more rigid than them, but I think I can appreciate it.

Allik was hilarious. Wayne x MeLaan was pretty wholesome and fun. Marasi is always great ❤️

The highlight of this book’s plot was definitely the Southern Scadrians and their Metallic Arts technology. A complaint I’ve had about the Mistborn Saga is that its world and history either feels too small or too shallow, even though there are reasons. This book definitely didn’t eliminate it, but it did mitigate it. The Southern Scadrians’ mask culture sounds intriguing, AND THEIR TECH!!! I’m so excited to find out more about them.

Another highlight of the plot, even though it came during the Sanderlanche, was the conversation between Wax and Harmony. This helped me realize that Sazed is still Sazed, but a Sazed that realizes the complexities of being God. Apart from the issues behind the Shard of Harmony mentioned in book 5, it seems like he’s trying to be different from Preservation. Even with Sanderson’s hazy writing of Era 1’s themes, I felt Preservation was indirectly portrayed as a coddling force. Much like the Lord Ruler, it could be a force who wants to protect, keep things stable, and keep the status quo even at the cost of change and lives.

Granted it’s fuzzy because of The Plan, so I could be reaching lol. Anyway, those attributes clearly aren’t Harmony or Sazed. Harmony is representative of a perfect balance with Ruin’s attributes, and Sazed wants to change Elendel and drive innovation. I love that Sanderson made this clear. I also love the mention of Harmony’s futuresight and his insight into Wax’s mind. It shows he really thought about all future possibilities before deciding Wax needed to go through pain for Paalm and the world’s sake.

And I’m pretty confident Harmony placed Wax’s group in place to stop the Set from getting the ettmetal bomb and Bands. His lines about Trust remind me of what Preservation did throughout his several thousand year long plan, but moderated/expanded with the Shard Ruin’s attributes and Sazed’s outlook.

Harmony’s speech about choices made me cry 😭

I’m shook by the Sovereign twist lmao. Kelsier is the Sovereign?! What the hell is going on?!

I have several theories but I’m sure some will be answered in Secret History and Lost Metal.

[thewayshedreamed]

The Hereafter

Nessian one-shot [post-acowar, pre-acofas]

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A/N: Some post-war, pre-acosf Nessian angst/ longing— because that's what called to me, okay? We got hints of the strained relations during that Nessian era, but we didn't get the full visibility. This was an attempt at a glimpse into one of those interactions— where the pull is there, but the barriers are, too. Nesta doesn't quite understand everything that comes with her new existence and is still trying to find her place in it all. Cassian attempts to stay out of her way and give her space, but their draw to the other has a mind all its own. Nesta is also very unfamiliar with Fae norms and customs, and that only adds to the unresolved tension between the two of them.

This is an angsty one-shot written for my wonderful and patient friend who made zero complaints about getting her Secret Santa gift in March 😅

——————————————————————————

For a species considered to be superior in every way— proclaimed largely by their own, unsurprisingly— the Fae left a lot to be desired in their romance literature.

Different preternatural ability, same load of bullshit.

Nesta scoffed internally. It wasn’t as if she held any notion that these fictitious relationships were meant for her, or anyone else, really. And if she truly abandoned what remained of her prim, high-collar upbringing, she could admit to reading them for the more physical connections as of late. She held higher hopes for those experiences than the more wholesome ones. The thought was so bleak that it should have depressed her, but she would have needed to be anything other than numb for that to happen.

It was ironic, this new existence. All her senses firing beyond any reasonable ability, yet complete and total apathy for anything else. An almost painful sensitivity paired with the need for extremes to evoke any care at all.

The forced choice between emptiness and the pain that accompanied experiencing anything to its fullest.

The war had changed Nesta in many ways. Her general perspective and approach to life had been challenged by the low odds of her survival, and they were changed altogether when she’d managed it. Of course, she hadn’t been alone in achieving it, but that was another road entirely to travel.

A booming laugh sounded down the hall, and the abrupt lapse of silence made Nesta flinch. She was seated in a bay window off the side of her sister’s home, tucked among a few plush pillows and with a blanket draped over her lap. The quiet had made it the perfect spot to sit and read, and she scowled in the general direction of the offending noise.

It was his laugh, and she cringed at the realization that she knew it so well. Their interactions had been minimal before, but since the war, they had been nearly nonexistent. It seemed that neither of them had managed to figure out how to broach any casual interaction after Cassian’s words had settled into her bones during, what they’d assumed was, their final moments.

I regret nothing in my life but this.

Nesta snapped her book shut and leaned her head against the window. The way his words haunted her jabbed at a long-dormant buzz beneath her skin, down to her bone marrow. The subtle warmth came first, only enough to attempt to seduce her into leaning into it. But Nesta wasn’t one to give in so easily.

Discipline and strategic distraction had been her allies in tamping down what she’d stolen. Anytime her vigilance dropped, even for a moment, that warmth escalated to a sharp, bone-melting heat that left her feeling like her only option was to erupt. The alternative was implosion, she imagined.

Her will kept her safe. Everyone hinted at trying to understand the power and learning to wield it so that it didn’t control her or drive her to madness. Her response was always the same— cold indifference, perhaps a quick retort to mind their own business depending on the day. Either one was preferable to the truth.

The potential, both positive and negative, terrified her.

Laughter sounded again. Nesta wished it would have served as kindling to a lighter version of herself, one where her chest didn’t feel so heavy and her shoulders weren’t perched so high. All it did was point out how she didn’t fit, how everyone had seemed to heal in immeasurable ways in the months since the war. Ways that eluded her time and time again.

Amren had offered plenty of unsolicited advice. Feyre probably would have done the same if Nesta had given a shred of hope that her sister’s help would have been well-received.

While their High Lady— gods, would that title ever feel commonplace?— was keen to allow Nesta to set her own pace, Amren hadn’t been. Tough love didn’t begin to describe her approach in supporting Nesta, and frankly, some days it felt less like support and more like a begrudged job.

Apparently, merely existing wasn’t an acceptable way to pass the infinite time. Amren had challenged her to do something with it, and since the days after the war held fewer opportunities for an emissary, Nesta had been left to figure out what the hell she cared to do with her days.

Elain had her gardening, and while Nesta appreciated the dedication and focus her sister poured into it, it wasn’t something she was interested in practicing herself. Feyre had whatever High Ladies were tasked with doing, although she guessed Feyre was setting the standards as the first in Prythian’s history.

Nesta rested her book on the bench nearby and began folding the blanket she’d used. More commotion came from down the hall, and as the voices grew louder, she realized she’d spent more time than she intended lost in her thoughts.

That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta.

Her eyes squeezed shut against the intrusion of the memory. It was always unwelcome and particularly ill-timed. And wasn’t that the fatal flaw in all of it— time?

She fluffed the throw pillows and tucked her novel beneath her arm. On silent feet, she padded to the stairs nearby and followed them down through one of the house’s several living areas, smoothing her skirts and making her way to the kitchen. A relieved breath whooshed out of her at hearing those same voices descending the stairs, and she thanked the Cauldron that she’d managed to avoid them.

A scoff escaped her. Since when had she started thanking that glorified pot for anything?

Cynicism greeted her like an old friend, albeit not a very good one. The reprieves were always too brief and lackluster in contrast, but Nesta's very essence clung to them all the same. All for naught, usually.

Sitting idle was guaranteed to allow for rumination over the previous months and the infinite ones she’d yet to live. Something had to compete with her thoughts, lest she lean too heavily into them and stoke that aversive thrumming in her veins.

She hadn’t put much thought into heading toward the kitchen, especially since her appetite was nonexistent most of the time, and she had yet to allow herself to indulge in much of the Fae cuisine.

The inspiration didn’t reveal itself until she crossed the threshold of the spacious area. The merry group indulging in each others’ obnoxious company would likely carry their festivities into dinner, and one thing was for absolute certain.

Nesta would not be subjecting herself to that.

The invitations always came, usually from Feyre. Sometimes, Rhysand offered, but he seemed as enthusiastic about Nesta’s company as she felt about his.

It was a double-edged sword. Accepting the invitation came with a myriad of inevitable, uncomfortable moments. Declining it was a sin all its own, as evidenced by Feyre’s disappointment and compounded by Rhysand’s disapproval of the decision. All it did was perpetuate Nesta as the cold, callused bitch— no matter what she chose.

Preparing her own dinner seemed like a creative solution that was tolerable enough, and it allowed her to eat alone to avoid the questioning gazes as she picked at her meal. She had little interest in the task and even less interest in the product, but she would have an out for any invitations. Cooking was a small price.

Choosing what to make wasn’t difficult since Nesta cared for so few things. The only dish she’d managed to tolerate in recent memory was a chicken and bean stew she’d been gifted from a Fae vendor along the Sidra. She had taken a short stroll through Velaris in the middle of the day, and sheer curiosity had made her browse the vendor’s cart. Before she’d blinked, they had recognized her as their High Lady’s sister, and they’d insisted on sending Nesta away with lunch— their treat. A gesture of thanks, they’d said.

The stew had been rich and flavorful, and despite herself, Nesta had enjoyed it. And since her appetite had been pitiful in recent weeks, she was grateful that it hadn’t sat too heavily in her empty stomach. The bar was low with regard to what she considered a win in her new life, and the lack of nausea had made the list until some other facet of existence brought it upon her anyway.

Nesta shook her head against the thought and retrieved the handwritten recipe she’d tucked into a rarely used drawer. The vendor had been enthusiastic in sharing it with her, insisting it was “too simple” not to try herself, but they had clearly overestimated Nesta’s domestic abilities.

Looking back, she’d questioned the vendor’s business sense in offering one of his dishes to her so openly, so they hadn’t been the only one leaning into their bias. He had explained it away somehow; something about doubting Nesta would have much time to return and the fact that she would have no reason to start her own food cart as competition with her other duties.

If only she could have explained how undefined her role felt each day, how meaningless her presence seemed to the longevity of the Night Court. Maybe she could have shared how she remained in a perpetual, personal battle between relief that they didn’t need her and the sheer emptiness left where purpose should have been. Before the thought could discourage her, her reasons for cooking in the first place propelled her into action.

Her nose wrinkled against the smell of the raw chicken. Her movements had never been as efficient as in preparing it for boiling, nevermind her clumsiness along the way. She heaved a breath once she lowered it into the rolling water and turned her attention to chopping the onions and carrots, as well as the fresh herbs from Elain’s garden. Admittedly, the fresh thyme and rosemary offered a pleasant scent to combat the earlier one, and after some time, Nesta found temporary comfort in the redundancy of preparation.

The aroma came together beautifully once the various herbs, spices, and vegetables simmered with the chicken. Nesta allowed herself a moment to be pleased with her work and returned the lid to the large pot to allow everything time to cook together.

Voices travelled into the space from the other room— loud, although not entirely hostile— and resonated in the hollow area within her chest. Determined not to allow them to sour her satisfaction, Nesta settled into the nearby breakfast nook with her novel. She opened to her most recent page and lost herself in the space between the words, happy to immerse herself in some other life.

—

Fire.

Nesta smelled fire.

Her eyes leaped from the page to scan the immediate area. No smoke, no visible flames. The scent remained; however, and Nesta wondered about temporary madness until its source strode into the kitchen.

Cassian appeared— sauntered, as he usually did— around the corner, and the scent intensified. It hijacked Nesta’s senses, eclipsed all the other aromas she’d enjoyed earlier, until he was the object of her resolute focus. Against her will, to top it off.

He opened several cupboards in search of, only the gods knew what, until his eyes lit up at finding a package of dried meats in the pantry. Tucking it into the crook of his elbow, he opened another cupboard and pulled crackers, what looked like some kind of preserved fruit, and some nuts. Nesta fixed her features into indifference as she watched him move about the space, but it hardly mattered. Cassian didn’t seem aware of her presence in the slightest, but after several seconds, his voice traveled through the kitchen and clued her in to her naivety.

“Smells good in here,” he stated, his attention focused on which platter may have met his needs.

Nesta saw it for the olive branch it was, the attempt at casual and friendly conversation. The last thing she needed was his damned charity.

She hummed some semblance of a reply and turned to the next page with a soft snap. Cassian placed his haul on the countertop nearby and wisely withheld any type of retort at her dismissal. Well, he mostly withheld a reply if one ignored the unimpressed huff of a laugh he offered.

Cassian was a social creature in ways Nesta could never be, so ignoring him seemed the best way to have him stalking off to resume his grand time with the others. For the second time in mere minutes, though, he surprised her.

Without a word, he walked over to the large pot and lifted the heavy lid to peer inside. Nesta’s eyes bugged at his audacity to disturb her meal, doubling in size when he took things a step further and gave the stew a slow stir.

The book lay forgotten on the tabletop, and Nesta’s legs carried her over in a handful of long, purposeful strides. Cassian seemed unruffled by her proximity entirely, but Nesta’s bones thrummed in a delicate rhythm she wondered if she could ever understand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she snapped.

Cassian lowered the wooden spoon on the rest and looked sidelong at her. Half of his dark hair was pulled back into a haphazard bun, tendrils dancing around his face as if in step with the amusement in his gaze. Nesta’s breath caught, but she met his stare with equal intensity.

His mouth twitched at the corners, one side curling into a satisfied smirk. “I knew this smelled familiar. I’ve made it myself, more times than I can count.”

Nesta lifted the wooden spoon to stir the stew in some petty show of ownership. Doing so felt transparent, but Cassian needed reminding of boundaries, it seemed. He leaned his palms against the countertop and watched her without an ounce of offense in his posture.

They stood close enough to feel the other’s body heat, to hear the rhythm of the other’s breathing. Tension tickled every atom between them and permeated the space. The only saving graces were the erratic sounds of Nesta’s stirring and the occasional raised voice from the other room.

The silence within the kitchen wasn’t unwelcome or strained in its purest form, but the side effects of that silence became a beast all its own. Heightened pulse, the action-potential threaded through each cord of her muscles and the shallow breaths— they grew increasingly difficult to conceal with every passing second.

Cassian’s breath hitched, and since Nesta had already allowed herself the indulgence of his proximity, she lifted a small bit of stew to her mouth for taste testing. If her mouth was otherwise occupied, she didn’t have to be as concerned with it creating problems for her future self in a number of ways— ranging from scathing comment, all the way to something more physically indulgent.

The flavors flooded her tongue and filled her with an odd sense of pride at having produced something edible with no tools other than a slip of paper and social avoidance on her side. Before pure satisfaction could settle in, however, the glide over the back of her tongue fell flat, a little bland, and left her wanting. It was a test of her self-control that she lowered the spoon into the pot with a reasonable amount of force.

She cleared her throat. “So, you’ve made this before?”

The silence felt loaded with Cassian’s lack of response, but from the corner of her eye, she saw his head shake back and forth as if he’d been somewhere else entirely.

“Yeah,” he breathed, easing close enough that their shoulders overlapped. Nesta thought he would elaborate, saving her the awkwardness of fishing for information, but luck hadn’t been on her side in some time.

“How did I do?” she asked, more timid than she’d care to sound. Her goal had been teasing indifference.

Cassian’s hand shadowed hers on the spoon in permission, and Nesta nodded. The roughness of his skin ghosted over the back of her palm during the transfer, and usually, she would force herself to bristle. Too much time had passed with his body so close, and her commitment to the charade felt minimal at best.

“It smells great; looks right. Why?”

“Something isn’t right about it.”

He hummed in consideration. Nesta back arched imperceptibly before she righted herself. With her guard down, it was as though her body aimed to betray her in favor of pressing her shoulder blade against Cassian’s broad chest.

Cassian muttered a low curse and dropped the spoon against the side of the pot with a dull thud. Nesta’s gaze whipped over her shoulder, mouth poised around a reprimand or some scathing, rhetorical question, but the look on his face stopped the words short.

His wings flexed over his shoulders, and the effect the movement had on how light scattered through the membrane would have been dazzling if not for the way Cassian’s pupils seemed bottomless. They pulsed around the edges, seeming impossibly darker and devouring any hint of his eyes’ usual color. Nesta couldn’t look away, but in some distant corner of her mind, she wondered if she should have been more anxious overall.

Cassian’s hand gripped the edge of the counter, but he didn’t move away. That alone surprised her, and something like anticipation skittered up her spine and through her body like confetti.

That familiar, unwelcome warmth pulsed beneath the surface of her skin. Nesta had learned the signs so many times over, had developed numerous ways to cope and keep herself contained. None of them occurred to her, and for all she cared, they could incinerate her mercilessly.

His chin dipped, his eyes squeezing shut in an expression that looked similar to pain. Unbeknownst to Nesta, her head had leaned toward his shoulder by mere inches, but the way his body heat blazed the back of her neck felt like full, uninhibited contact. Cassian blinked, long and lazy, and the hazel of his eyes reappeared in a way that made Nesta wonder if she’d imagined the whole thing.

Cassian laid his free hand over the curve of her waist with a gentleness that seemed of someone else entirely, but the calluses that snagged the fine fabric of her gown identified him. It made no sense that she’d know that sensation anywhere, but somehow, it had been one permanently embedded in her memory from that final battle.

“Maybe it needs a little time for everything to come together,” he murmured, his thumb making a too-soft sweep over her waist.

That word again— time. Nesta had grown so exhausted with it, but she managed to keep that secret hidden.

She gave a curt nod and turned her attention back to the subpar meal, but Cassian’s hand held fast to its position. He occupied nearly all of her senses, and an impossible tightness gripped her ribs from the inside.

As if the shift in the air had thrown him off-kilter in a similar manner, a too-familiar drawl weaved its way into his next words. Their familiar ground, built on loaded silences and provocations, felt less like a foundation and more a slippery slope as of late.

“I wouldn’t be hard on yourself, Sweetheart.” His sweet, teasing tone choked her, like trying to breathe through syrup. “None of us got it on the first try.”

Her temper flared with an eerie sort of quickness, one that left her without balance and too vulnerable to what she spent most minutes of her days choking into submission. Her bones burned white hot, and she narrowly evaded her power’s proverbial claws. It would have been cause for celebration if the cost wasn’t her viper’s tongue and the annihilation of any peace they’d found.

“You try it, then,” she snapped, turning quickly enough for his hand to fall from her waist. “You could use your mouth for something useful rather than drone on as you do.” Without the pressure of his hand against her, perhaps her mental faculties would come back.

Cassian blinked a couple of times, and his gaze leaped from hers to the spoon in her hand. The other was poised beneath to catch any spill, and she held it toward him like something precious— anything to absorb some of the intensity flowing through her bloodstream, to keep her hands and focus at a safe distance.

“What?” he croaked. His eyes repeated their dance between her own and the spoon she held between them.

“Try it,” she ordered again, but her voice had lost some of its sharpness. “Tell me how to fix it, since you’ve got it all figured out.”

Cassian blinked again, and it could have been her imagination, but his chest seemed to heave with the effort of breathing. A chill was all that remained when he took two slow, small steps away from her. The change in him was as obvious as it was swift, but Nesta couldn’t fathom what had flipped the switch with such effectiveness.

“I— I can’t,” he scoffed. “The others are waiting for me.”

Nesta narrowly resisted a roll of her eyes at his sense of servitude. She watched as he snapped into action, locating a tray and piling his haul on top without taking even a moment to lay them out properly. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth, his brow furrowed, and his attention seemed to bounce all about the space while managing to miss Nesta’s general vicinity entirely. His movements were efficient in locating the last couple of items he needed from the cabinets and cooler nearby, and in seconds, he had the haul balanced in his arms once more.

Shaking her head against such a brutal shift in their conversation, Nesta turned toward her dinner and tapped the spoon lightly on the edge of the pot to return the contents. She tossed it into the trivet nearby with little grace and even less concern, and the loud clang seemed to echo in the too-silent room.

Cassian’s shoulders bunched under the weight of everything he carried; either that, or the abrupt change in their conversation felt uncharacteristically heavy to him, too. The thought that it might feel such a way gave Nesta some ill-placed sense of comfort, but considering she knew very little of it, she allowed the small bandage it applied to what felt like an ancient wound.

She made the way over to her book without any acknowledgement of Cassian’s existence. She had entertained it enough already, and if she settled back into where she’d left off in the story, she could finish two or more chapters by the time everything was finished. A much more productive use of her time, she thought.

Cassian paused at the threshold, and she hated that she even noticed. Her body— every sense it possessed— seemed bent on sabotage. Rather than look at him, she trailed her finger down the edge of the pages and turned to the next with delicate precision, but the words all ran together in a chaos she was trying so vehemently to keep private.

“Nesta,” he said, his voice low, “it’s sage.”

Her head snapped up before she thought better of it. “What?”

“What you’re missing, why your meal isn’t working. It needs sage.”

Nesta fixed him with an unimpressed glare. “Oh?” Her attention dropped to the page in front of her, the portrait of inconvenience. “I hate to offend your superior senses, but I added it already.”

She hadn’t. In fact, she cursed internally for the mistake. It was written plain as day in the recipe she followed, but she’d been so preoccupied with the other prep that it slipped her mind. Giving him the satisfaction, especially without his willingness to try the damned soup in the first place, didn’t appeal to Nesta.

Cassian cleared his throat. “I don’t think—”

“I’ll give it time,” she hissed, her eyes betraying her again by flying to his face. “All the time it needs.”

His dark eyebrows drew together in challenge, and Nesta could nearly see how his brain weighed the different strategies on how to proceed. His mouth opened, shut, and opened again. To her surprise, his lips ticked up at the corner, and she hated the hold that small movement had on her breathing.

“You can give it all you want,” he drawled, “but it won’t help.”

Her nostrils flared in irritation, and it was enough to tempt her to finally allow that boiling feeling to take over completely. To incinerate the moment, the two of them, and anything else in its wake, if only because she could. But mostly, it would have saved her the production of these conversations and the ever-present tug she felt toward Cassian, no matter how infuriating.

Nesta took a deep breath, warring with what to say, but he saved her the trouble.

“I helped Elain bring everything inside,” he murmured. The low volume did very little to disguise the satisfaction in his voice. “The bundle of sage in the cooler is untouched from this morning.”

Her heart leaped to her throat. Whether the rasp of his voice or the way he called her on the blatant lie was to blame, she wasn’t sure. She forced her gaze back to her open book and feigned the most casual tone she could conjure under the circumstances.

“The others are waiting.”

The very excuse he’d made for his intended departure was a safe dismissal. Cassian was many things, but clueless was not one of them. Nesta was confident he would see it for the clear signal it was that their conversation was officially over.

“Right,” he began, adjusting his haul in his arms. “I’ll see you around.”

Nesta catalogued each of his steps, annoyed that she knew the cadence so well. Her shoulders relaxed, and she blew out a long, heavy breath. She stared into the negative space of the room, a room that felt too large upon Cassian’s absence, yet too small when they had shared it.

Her gaze bounced from the pot perched over the small flame, to the cooler, and back to the novel in front of her. She was on her third attempt at reading the same paragraph when resolve abandoned her completely. Snapping the book shut, she huffed an undignified breath and stalked over to the cooler.

The sage wasn’t going to prep itself.

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If you’d like to be tagged in any of my fics, please send me an ask, a message, leave a comment, or mention being tagged in your reblog! I’ll be happy to add you!

[And, if I’ve left you off my list unintentionally, please don’t hesitate to remind me! No offense taken.]

--

Nessian + ACoTaR taglists [General tag list in reblog]:

@introvertsuntes68-blog

@pyxxie

@story-scribbler

@agentsofsheilds

@and-she-burns-with-it

@bondbabe2000

@burningsnowleopard

@champanheandluxxury

@duskandstarlight

@embersofwildfire

@faeriebambula

@flora-shadowshine

@foughtconquered

@fucking-winchester-trash

@gwynberdara

@illyrianshadowhunter

@itsforeverinnocent-blog

@joyceortiz13

@katrinegrey

@lady-winter-sunrise

@melphss

@misteryhen

@my-fan-side

@my-otrand

@notyournymphetish

@princessofmerchants

@princessofmerchants-reads

@simpingfornestaarcheron

@sirendeepity

@sv0430

@talkfantasytome

@that-golden-lyre

@thereadingrainbows

@theoverlyenthusiasticwriter

@towhateverend87

@vasudharaghavan

@valkyriewarriors

@wannawriteyouabook

[localplaguenurse]

I am just nosy, forgive me. Can you describe each one of your mutuals?

Buckle up people and prepare to get complimented >:3c

First and foremost, they’re all absolute sweethearts to me.

There are my irl friends, such as @wretchedshade, @granolabird, @siriuscitrus and @scales-of-stardust or beta as I usually refer to them. I share the same braincell with these people.

Wretchedshade has been my best friend since we were ten, we’ve been there for each other for 11 years. I initially got her into anime, and then she got me into jojo, and every once in a while we cry about Doukyuusei again. She’s a great artist and is really good at writing sad shit, which is why I write sad shit; to have the glory of finally making her cry. She kicked cancer’s teeth in a few months ago so it’s about goddamn time something good come her way and I WILL fight someone on that.

Granolabird is the dm for my dnd campaign, and like I said, absolute sweetheart, chaotic adhd haver (actually like most of my friend group is like this lmao we’re all queer and neurodivergent). Either way, we used to share thoughts on each other’s original stories, and we still do sometimes but it’s mostly just sending each other tiktoks/reels like “this you” or “this your oc.”

Siriuscitrus is usually pretty hyper, but also tries to be v considerate of everyone’s feelings. If you said that the McDonald’s employee put pickles on your burger when you said no, they’d probably be the one to tell them. They’re also scarily good at vibechecking people and told me I give “future he/they vibes” and like a week later I said “fuck you’re right oh my god.”

You’ve probably seen me and beta’s interactions on here or in the ao3 comments. We enjoy our like playful rivalry/enemyship. I like to torment tease her and she usually gets me back pretty good, it’s all in good fun. It’s also really funny to me whenever we meet up, I tell myself “you are friends with them for reasons other than fic so do not make it about fic” and then we’ll spend literally hours talking about and brainstorming fic ideas. It just Happens.

I’m also gonna add @memory-mortis into here because while we’ve not met irl I’ve introduced him to my friend group. Yet another sweetheart, love her art style a lot, and she was one of the first comments I got on ginkgo trees to motivate me to keep going. I was kinda worried about bringing him into my friendgroup because like if I’m not overthinking I am not thinking At All. I was super relieved and happy that she like IMMEDIATELY fit in with everyone so :D

For some of my other close but only on tumblr/ao3/outside my general friendgroup mutuals! (There are too many so I’m sorry if you’re not here it’s mostly people I interact with more regularly ;-;)

@crimson-ashes who I have occasionally with absolute love called my “askbox gremlin” because they live in my inbox. I need to stress this is affectionate because genuinely, I love opening tumblr and seeing I’ve got asks from them. They gotta stop posting Astarion though because I’m feeling So Tempted to play BG but I know my laptop would kill itself (joking).

@crystalflygeo and I know I’ve called everyone sweethearts but genuinely, she’s probably one of the sweetest people I’ve had the pleasure of talking to. She’s really wholesome (unlike her writing which is never gonna be a complaint in my book, good soup) and super supportive of other people.

@madamemachikonew who’s super polite and really kind. She’s also really creative/smart when it comes to referencing real world art and philosophy in her writing and integrating it into her own worldbuilding. I would have never thought to have done that, and it makes her writing very unique!

We don’t interact as much but @probably-doesnt-exist, @ethve, @euniveve and @ainescribe are such talented artists and super sweet, have literally made me screech and cackle with utter joy whenever they draw the characters from ginkgo trees. I rotate through which art becomes my phone’s lock/home screens.

This is long af but fuck it, I wanna brighten people’s days and I told myself to say “I love you” to my friends and family more, so consider this one big “I love you!” to y’all. It’s a pleasure talking to y’all!

[proshipmori]

The constant monthly complaining over f/f pairings having less fics than m/m ones by now has become annoying, especially because the solution to this is very simple, but f/f only shippers (not all, but every single one who complains about this) don't actually want to engage with f/f fics or are upset that they're not up to their "wholesome and cute" standard. Like, there are f/f fics and people who write for those ships.

The current complaint was about Alien Stage. If you go look at the fandom tag on ao3, you'll notice that overall, people engage with the m/m ship more than the f/f one. More kudos and more hits all the way around (I tend to avoid discussions about comments since that's a losing game either way, but you can apply that here. More comments on the m/m ship still, but these days those don't really matter much cause not many people comment in general).

Hell, let me show you some of my f/f fics and compare those interactions to my m/m fics

These are all my current f/f fics, sorted by kudos. I'll just let you look at this.

Now, compare that to my m/m fics (due to them having longer descriptions and not being able to fit more than one of them into a single screenshot, I'll type all of it out, but you can look at it all on your own here if you want to). Also sorted by kudos btw

Lifeless Stars - 152 kudos, 7 comments

A little more warmth - 151 kudos, 9 comments

I wanna be yours - 122 kudos, 3 comments

Heart beat a heart - 103 kudos, 1 comment

I will note that the first 2 are multi-chapter fics, but the rest are one-shots.

As you can see, comments aren't really an indicator of anything, cause that's the current fandom climate with them. But you can see the difference in kudos. People just don't want to engage with f/f fics but yet demand them.

Another thing that you can also do is commission people, it's just that f/f only shippers never do that lmao. So far, I've had 6 commissions. 3 were m/f and 3 were m/m. The one time I wrote something f/f for someone else was when I was doing a fic raffle last year.

Like. I know why they do this, I think we all do. But it's still annoying because these types of people should just leave fandom at this point, cause you're not doing anything to help the community. You're just making people NOT want to write f/f ships and stay away from the media that has a lot of ships like that. You're making it worse for people who actually care and engage with it.

[guiraguira]

Hi, I hope you're having an amazing day, dear <3 Stay hydrated too! ^^

If you can do it, I would like some platonic MTC hcs with a f!s/o that is older than them (she's like 40-45y) and have a 'mother-son type' relationship with them!

I have this sweet and caring neighbor that is always worrying about me, my brother, pretty much everyone else, haha. Her husband died when they were a young couple, so she couldn't have kids. Because of that, she brings this warm and motherly feeling to everyone <3

I just thought that it would be very cute and wholesome to see our 'Yokohama badboys' melting with this kind of attention, haha.

Like mom ✨

Hello honey!❤️❤️ I hope you are well too! I promise to hydrate 🤭

Ohhh! There is a lot of potential here! I'm going to do some small individual ones and then a group one! But I think this could have more parts.

I am very sorry for your neighbor, there are really people that life does not smile at but they look for a way to bring warmth anyway. The kind of people you have to protect at any cost ❤️

Warnings: none!

Mad trigger crew x fem reader!

Samatoki

° If you find him walking down the street and he's around! the sidewalk across the street and you wave to him to let him know that you're going to cross, he doesn't know how to react, are you really going to cross just to talk to him? He prepares himself mentally for whatever you're going to say to him, fearing it's something bad, but when you only ask about his day and invite him to come by your store for coffee, his back involuntarily hunches as if his heart weighed heavily on his chest.

° The next time something similar happens, he freezes on the spot again, but then he develops a sixth sense to cross before you, obviously respecting the traffic rules. Never again in his life will he cross a green light in front of you, he still remembers how you got scared thinking he would have an accident.

° When he makes his rounds he makes sure to get to your store alone, he is very embarrassed when you wait for him with some sweet as a thank you for being so attentive and he doesn't want anyone else to know about it. "Toki, are you always alone? You can come more often if you want, you know there's a place reserved for good guys in my store" you said, ruffling his hair "I'm not a boy, and I'm not alone" he averts his gaze and accommodates his hair as best he can, he doesn't want them to see this part of him either.

° if it's a bit cold you can't allow him to walk like that "Samatoki! It's a bit windy today, you can't just walk like that!" You button up his shirt to cover his torso "s/o, that's fine… I'm not cold" maybe he is a bit cold, but he won't admit it "You're freezing! Don't think that because you're young you won't leave to get sick" you rub his arms up and down to give him some warmth without listening to his complaints.

Jyuto

° You have no consideration for him, cheekily greeting him when he is with his patrol partner, asking if he already had lunch because of what time of day it was and if he answers "no" he is forced to accept any snack you offer them, since obviously he is not you will give something not only to Jyuto but to his partner as well.

° When you find him first thing in the morning you can't help but adjust his hair "s/o, I can do it myself" but despite that he bends over for you to do it "I know, I know…oh, your glasses are a little dirty" and you take them off to clean them "I can do that too" but he keeps waiting for you to finish "I know that too… but it was only for a second" you say putting his glasses back on and looking if there's anything more than you can do for him. You have no idea the effect he has on his day, he is deeply touched by your kindness and maybe he will treat everyone a little better.

° Every time news of an arrest in Yokohama comes out, you ask him if he participated and if he's okay if he did. Most of the time he would rather lie to you if he was involved because he doesn't want to worry you, but he also doesn't want to lie to you and seem like he never does anything. So he simply says that he's fine, even if he's hurt a little.

° He still remembers with shame the time that to celebrate his birthday you brought a cake to his workplace and far from making fun of him, a part of the police department began to sing him happy birthday. Despite this, he was very moved by the gesture, he had not celebrated it for years.

Rio

° If the forecast says it's going to rain, your first reaction is to think of him sleeping in his camp, hoping he won't get wet "You can come if you want, what will you do if the water passes through your tent?" No matter how much you offer him to sleep in your bridge or even prepare a more comfortable bed for him, he refuses "I'm used to the rain, it's okay" he tries to convince you that nothing will happen to him, although more than once you were so insistent that you managed to let the rain pass in your house.

° You usually tell him the offers that are in the market, in case he needs something for his exotic food. He will cook something for you in gratitude, he knows that your palate is more delicate, so try very carefully to prepare something that you like, it may end up having a horrible taste, but he put all his heart into that dish "it really is a flavor different Rio, is very tasty" the satisfied smile on his face is adorned with a slight blush if you ask him for another dish.

° It is difficult for him to go against you, you always speak to him in a tone that leaves no room for doubt, but without being authoritative, so if you tell him to stay still while you clean a couple of superficial wounds, he will do it without hesitation and also I'll thank you with a bit of shame when you're done.

° You constantly compliment how strong he is, so he offers to do whatever strength you need to do. If you clap for him after he helps you he usually does those bodybuilding poses just to make you laugh.

Generals

° When you discover that they are a rap group, you tell them that you will go see them in their next battle to support them but none of the three want you there, they know that they use bad words and that they behave differently than they always do with you. If you accidentally listen to one of his songs they will do everything possible to make you forget that you did it, mainly Jyuto he knows the phrases he says.

° During the holidays you usually give them things to match, last Christmas they were hand-knitted blue scarves. Rio is the most sensitive with your gifts, he will wear it with pride until the weather allows it, he doesn't want it to get ruined so he tries to wash it more carefully. Jyuto and Samatoki are more embarrassing, they will use them very little but they keep them with love.

° Occasionally they stop by your home just to check that you're okay, sometimes they don't agree and all three end up arriving at the same time. "Did you guys come to see me? Ohhhhh how cute they are!" Embracing them to the same time, they invent a thousand excuses to make it seem like it was something casual. "So they won't pass?" They automatically walk through your door and sit around your table, guilt would consume them if they said no.

° It happens infrequently but they are so comfortable with you that sometimes they fall asleep without realizing it and wake up warm with a blanket over their body. It also happens in your store, which is why there is a blanket always available. In the event that it is hot, they wake up knowing that there is an ice cream waiting for them.

° If they are helping you with a task, you call them "son" without realizing it, the first time it happened was with Jyuto and he was so disconcerted that he was slow to react, at some point he thought if he should call you mom in that case. Samatoki wasn't so lucky, he blushed up to his ears but carried on as if it were a matter of course. Rio is just happy that you call him that.

° If either of them has a slightly different face you know right away "Honey, did something happen?" And that question is all they need to open up to you. Sometimes they just want you to listen to them for a while, after each talk you usually ruffle their hair and place a kiss on the crown of their heads, as if it were a ritual to scare away their problems.

° When you celebrate their small achievements you really touch their hearts, they want to be better people just to see you smile. They don't care at all that you treat them like children, they finally found something that brings them peace.

° They do not know if they are the only ones you take care of in this way, but they enjoy every attention you give them, so they use every opportunity they have to return the love with actions, they can be small gifts, do the shopping for you, bring you something candy or help in your store. This all escalates on your birthday when they practically greet you with breakfast in bed and if you don't put a brake on them they are able to see you through until bedtime.