#also i do find it rather telling that whenever i try to delve into how the show structures things i talk about ava

[hyunsuks-beanie]

Relativity

Pairing: Husband! Jake x student! reader

Genre: Smut with hints of fluff

Content Warnings: Married au!; young marriage au!; unprotected sex

Word Count: 2.27k words

Mellow speaks: I'm sweating this was way too hot to write!! Hope you guys like it, because I definitely am in love wirh husband! Jake now. Also, I'm just asking, but is it weird that I was actually thinking about this dream I had of Kento while writing one particular part of the story lmao?

Tagging: @sunshinelixie-lee @ivyvesisi @sweethyuka

"In here!," you call out from inside the bedroom, your voice carrying over to your husband as he steps into the apartment. He can't help but smile to himself at the slight hint of annoyance that laces your words, his feet carrying him over to you as he drops his jacket onto the couch.

Just as he had expected, the second he steps foot inside the room, he's greeted with an irritated huff from you, your physics homework laying sprawled out across the tiny table as you sit there, hand resting on your head. "Difficult?," he asks, his eyebrows raised in amusements as he leans over your shoulder, his face close to yours.

"Honestly though, why is relativity so hard to understand?," you groan, turning your head around slightly to place a kiss to his lips. He only giggles at that, sitting down in the chair next to you as his arm gets wrapped around your shoulders. "Take a break, maybe you'll get it then," he offers, squeezing your left arm and kissing your crown, eliciting a soft hum from you.

"How was your day though?," you ask in return, your head falling onto his shoulder as you cuddle closer to him. "Oh you know," he replies, shrugging gently as he delves into a story of what happened at his office that day. Soon enough, the room fills up with your laughter, the smile on his face growing brighter as he spends time with you after a long day at work.

Having married Jake at a young age sure caused you to face a few hurdles in life, with him having to shoulder the responsibility of two people as you strived to continue your studies. You know it must be hard, but never once has your husband tried to stop you from chasing your dreams or forced you to support him in meeting the expenses.

And you simply can't thank him enough for all that he's done and is doing for you, your tears threatening to spill every time he tells you how your dreams are his dreams. "All I want is for you to be happy," he always says, urging you to never let go of the things that make you happy.

That's pretty much the reason why want to give it your all whenever you open your books, the thought of him being proud when you finally grab your degree spurring you on in your efforts. And you do, most of the time anyway. But when it comes to physics, the odds are......rather against you.

Jake of course, knows this, and that's why he's always ready to lend you a hand when you don't understand a concept, having had a scientific background himself. Still, you often find yourself not too keen on asking him for help, reluctant to add even more to the pressure he's already under. Just having him by your side is more than enough, you think to yourself as you relish this rare moment with your partner.

But just then, you're snapped out of your thoughts as Jake calls, "Earth to Y/N," his fist flying to your head as he knocks on it. "Stop that!," you retort, a smile on your face as you look up at him. "Well then listen to what I'm saying!," comes his reply as he gives you a side-hug. Settling down once again, he repeats what he was saying earlier. "I went through your homework, and I think I can help you with it," he says, picking

"You don't have to," you're quick to say, snatching your notebook away from him. "But I want to," he quips, snatching it back and raising it above his head so that you can't reach it. "Come one babe, you know you need my help," he whispers, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You try to grab the notebook, only to give up soon enough. "Fine," is all you say, deflated as he picks up your pen and starts teaching you.

It starts good at first, with him helping you stop yourself from despising Einstein as he explains the basics to you. "So what I'm trying to say is that even though special relativity is called special relativity, it actually has a more generalized approach," he says for the third time that evening, hoping to get his point across.

Lifting your head up, you're about to rebutt his statement yet again, only to find your counter flying out your head the moment you catch sight of his bottom lip, nestled softly between his teeth. He looks so gorgeous like that, the expectant expression on his face as he looks at you making him appear insanely hot.

It's then that the you notice the beads of sweat dotting his forehead, his hair just a little wet because of it. Your gaze slowly travels from his face to his throat, your eyes widening when you notice his collarbone peeking out from under his shirt, the top button undone. And you don't stop there, soon shifting your focus to his arms, his biceps ripping from under the rolled-up sleeves. So pretty and so sexy, made to choke you.

You shake your head, blinking a couple times as you try to get your bearings. You love Jake Sim to bits, and you're sure the world knows that. But if there's one thing you absolutely hate about him, it's the grip he has on your thoughts, and on your very soul. He hasn't even done anything, and yet, you could make a list of all the things you want to do to him.

Sighing, Jake waves his hand in front of your face, hoping to catch your attention. His action causes you to come back to your senses, but only just, because while he was expecting you to throw another question his way, all that skips past your lips is a "Could you repeat that?" This, of course, catches him by surprise, making him subconsciously lick his bottom lip as he nods his head.

And so he begins explaining again, appearing to be blissfully oblivious to the fact that you're not hearing a word he says, your eyes focused solely on those plump lips of his, your mouth watering at the thought of having them against your skin. It's funny, you know. But still, you can do nothing to stop the desire that's growing in the pit of your stomach, your thighs being pressed together to keep the wetness from seeping through your panties.

Your husband is too hot to handle, and right now, you find yourself hanging from a precipice. You need him, but at the same time, you don't want to look as if you're just doing it to skip homework. So you try to keep it in, biting your cheek to stop yourself from moaning at the mere thought of him being inside you. But it's hard, and it only gets harder when he starts moving his hands around as a way to emphasize his words, the muscles in his arms flexing and rippling.

In the end, you can't keep it in, the way the complicated scientific terms roll of his tongue finally making you snap and say something that has both his and your eyes going wide in surprise. "Shove your tongue down my throat," you all but whimper, your words causing a surprised gasp to escape Jake. He looks so innocent in that moment, like a deer caught in red lights. A sharp contrast to how sexy he looked barely thirty seconds ago.

It makes you want to grab him by the collar and kiss him. And that's exactly what you do, your lips getting smashed against his as you pull him closer, finally tasting him. He's shocked at first, but it doesn't take Jake long to let out a moan into your mouth as he eagerly responds to your initiative. Next thing you know, you're sitting on his lap, straddling him as your tongues move in sync, your lips molding together like puzzle pieces.

Your hands instinctively get nestled in his hair, tugging on his soft locks as you nip on his bottom lip. His hands, meanwhile, come to rest on your butt, squeezing it gently but firmly through the fabric of your shorts. This elicits a moan from you, making Jake smirk into the kiss because he's such a sucker for the sounds you make. The kiss is heavenly, your homework long forgotten as you take it upon yourself to memorize every inch of his skin.

You begin grinding against his crotch, slowly rolling your hips as you seek some friction. He really is shoving his tongue down your throat by now, almost making you gag as his grip on your body tightens, a silent signal to speed up. You do as told, moving your hips around in circular motions as you feel him grow hard under you. Wanting more, you let your hands fall to his collar, sliding down his shirt as they undo his buttons along the way.

He pulls away, attempting to take the fabric off his body to give you more access. But you grip his wrist, hooded eyelids covering your blown-out pupils as you say, "Keep it on. Looks sexy on you." Jake can only grin at that, letting go of his shirt and dipping his hands to the fabric of your T-shirt instead. Catching your lips in another kiss, all he mumbles is "It's only fair," before pulling the clothing over your head and throwing it to the floor.

The next few minutes are a blur, your bra meeting the same fate as your T-shirt while Jake's hands massage your breasts. His lips are hot against your neck as you continue to grind against him, a "Choke me," slipping past your lips as you fist up his vest, moving it upwards till it's a crinkled mess near his collarbone. "Whatever you want baby," comes his reply, the loud moan that you let out when his hand finally makes its way to your throat like music to his ears.

You shift even closer, your breasts now rubbing against his chiseled chest as your rake your nails up and down his torso. He continues to choke you, cutting your oxygen off little by little while his free hand dips down, rubbing your clothed heat. You keep at it for a while, your moans growing louder and your touches growing filthier as arousal pools between your legs.

At long last, desire overpowers your senses, making you pull away and stand up in front of your husband, his mouth ajar as you get rid of your shorts and panties. "Need you in me," you whine, leaning against the desk and spreading your legs as you slowly rub your pussy, giving him a show.

And the groan that escapes Jake right then is nothing short of animalistic, his pants and boxers being ripped down his legs before his fingers get wrapped around your wrist, tugging on it super hard as he pulls you close. You can't help but giggle at his eagerness, pushing his chair away before bending down, your butt cheeks on full display as you place a kiss to his tip.

This has Jake squirming, his teeth digging into his bottom lip yet again as he grabs your wrist once more. Placing your free hand on his shoulder, you finally straddle him again, your legs on either side of his own as you lower yourself down, hissing softly as his cock enters your hole. You stay like that for just a moment, trying to get used to his size ad he bites down on your neck, sure to leave a mark.

You start moving, your hips slapping against his as his tip moves in and out of you. The room soon fills up with the sound of slapping against skin, your pace increasing as your lips meet Jake's once again. Bouncing up and down, you make sure to have him hit the back of your pussy every time before pulling out, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit.

He fills you up like a key fits into a lock, your walls stretching and making you forget everything except his name. And so, his name becomes your chant, interspersed only by a string of profanities as he takes control. He continues to move his hips, pushing into and pulling out of you like clockwork. You bury your face in his shoulder, your eyes closing in pleasure as you nip at his skin, your climax close at hand.

And Jake knows that, speeding up even more as he his nails dig into the flesh of your butt. One thrust, then another one, and then another. Then three more in rapid succession, and then a last one, hitting all the way back and making your eyes roll back as you let out an unearthly moan, your juices spilling out of you and coating his dick. He groans at the sensation, copying you and burying his face in your shoulder, his own orgasm hitting him like a truck at last.

Your body goes limp in his grasp, both his and your chests heaving as you nuzzle your face into him. Taking a second to catch your breath, you ask, "Aren't you gonna lecture me for wasting the time I should have spent studying?," causing Jake to chuckle as he holds you tighter.

"I trust that you know studying is just as important as having fun," he replies, a teasing hint to his voice. "It's just a matter of relative preference."

[caelestis-composition]

killshot anon! YEAH i totally agree w/ your view on kaeya. it's so weird to me that people will blame him for his role in a situation he was forced into as a child through no choice of his own. that itself had to be traumatic, not to mention everything that happened later. i hate when people say he's untrustworthy - like yeah, he's lied, so has everyone? it's clear he does it mostly to protect himself. not to mention that (& sadism) can be symptoms of trauma. kaeya deserves nothing but happiness

take a seat folks it’s time for a “brynn should’ve been an english major” lesson! today we’re gonna learn some literary theory; specifically, we’re gonna apply psychoanalytical trauma theory to kaeya’s backstory and current character. killshot anon i bet you never thought this would result in a whole ass essay.

disclaimer one! you are allowed to dislike kaeya! i am not saying you need to like him or his character, you’re entitled to your opinion and i’m not here to change your mind.

disclaimer two! i am in no way an expert and this is all for fun! this is just my silly little analysis of one of my favorite characters as someone who’s studied literary theory and rhetoric and can also apply personal experience. seriously analysis is like a hobby to me and this is just an excuse for me to ramble about kaeya.

disclaimer three! this contains lots of spoilers! basically for everything we know in-game, general knowledge as well as stuff from his voicelines and character story. don’t read this if you don’t want spoilers.

since this is going to be filled with spoilers and is about to get really long, everything will be under a cut. for those who wanna read my dumb super informal essay: enjoy!

final note: yeah this is over 2000 words long can you tell i like analysis

⭒

let’s start by getting a quick rundown of trauma theory out of the way. to begin, what is “trauma?” in this case, trauma is going to refer to an experience that greatly affects and changes one’s life; attitudes, memories, behaviors, mental state, etc. while not all changes may be bad, per se, the overall effect of trauma is generally a negative one, which is why it’s so significant. literary trauma theory, then, explores these changes and the impact of trauma in literature. it analyzes the psychological and social effects of trauma, explaining what those effects are and why they happen. in the context of a specific character, trauma theory breaks down said character’s behaviors, feelings, and general mentality in relation to their past experiences; trauma theory hopes to explain to others the reasons for why a character may act or feel the way they do, all based upon the character’s experiences, particularly traumatic ones. our character today is the lovely kaeya alberich, with the “literature” being genshin impact. i’ll be referencing kaeya’s wiki page to ensure i get all details correct for his character story and voicelines.

it would be good to review kaeya’s backstory before delving into the actual analysis. though we don’t know much about his life before living in mondstadt, we’re told he was sent as an agent of khaenri’ah. and by “sent,” i mean his biological father abandoned him in a completely unfamiliar land to serve khaenri’ah’s interests and fullfil his mission—what this entirely entails hasn’t been revealed. mondstadt, however, welcomed kaeya “with open arms when they found him.” crepus ragnvindr took him in as his adopted son, with diluc as his adopted brother. kaeya and diluc were “almost like twins,” so close they “[knew] each other’s thoughts and intentions without a word.” he’d began a new life in mondstadt, one surrounded by friends and family that loved him; one that was completely shattered by crepus’s death. kaeya arrived at the scene of the disaster, and was led to believe diluc was the one who killed their father to “set his father free” from the effects of his delusion. there’d always been one big question in kaeya’s life: if it came down to it, who would he support? the nation that abandoned him, but he still felt loyal to, or the nation and family that took him in and really loved him? overrun with guilt, kaeya confessed his purpose to diluc, sparking a fight between the two brothers. in this fight, kaeya receives his cryo vision. though both brothers stepped away alive, they’ve never been able to make peace with one another. now, kaeya is the eccentric and charming cavalry captain of the knights of favonius; a man who gets his way by using any means necessary, regardless of whether or not it seems right.

kaeya’s not evil; he’s morally ambiguous, and that stems from what appears to be a general distrust of others. his life is one shrouded in secrecy. from the moment he stepped foot into mondstadt, he was surrounded by secrets. even now, he doesn’t talk about a lot of things, namely his past, vision, and feelings. though he’s always willing to get information out of others, kaeya never reveals anything about himself. he repeatedly tells the player they can confide in him, but whenever you try and pry into his life, he deflects your questions with some sort of witty comment or flirty remark. anything he does reveal is vague, or spoken in some sort of “code.” for example, his “interesting things” voiceline. he tells us about the owl of dragonspine, how it “seems to look right through you, while letting go of none of its own secrets,” and then tacks on a “quite fascinating, don’t you think?” it seems like an awfully accurate parallel to himself; kaeya does all he can to get information from others, but never gives anything about himself. now, this whole thing—his relationship with diluc falling apart and his need for secrecy—could have probably been avoided if he had just come clean about his mission years ago. so why didn’t he? to start, kaeya was a literal child. not only are children unable to properly tell the difference between right and wrong, but they’ll also typically follow their parents’ orders blindly. kaeya had just been abandoned, and he wouldn’t want to risk being cast out by mondstadt as well if he came clean right away. you see, there’s this thing about trauma, something that trauma theory states. traumatized people feel a sort of shame or guilt regarding their traumatic experience; they’ll keep quiet because they don’t want to cause problems or bother others with their issues. of course kaeya wouldn’t tell the truth about his past, he doesn’t want to destroy the genuinely loving relationships he’d built in mondstadt. his fight with diluc only proves what he was afraid of: if he’s honest, he’ll be abandoned again. and if kaeya’s used to all the lies, why should he bother changing?

another thing, if he’s not going to tell the truth, then why would he have initially gone along with his father’s plans? again, he was a child. he really had no choice, and was forced into a very wrong and cruel situation. there’s a good explanation for this, too, which is also stated in trauma theory; traumatized people will still do their best to please their abusers. especially if said abuser is a parent, that will drive traumatized people to work even harder to please them. although his father hurt him by ruthlessly abandoning him, kaeya still sought to make him and his homeland proud. he was willing to be used as a tool for their gain; that is, until he found people who actually cared about him. he was an impressionable child, of course he’s going to obey orders. but as he gets older, he feels torn. does he serve those who abandoned him, or those that took him in? his father—and arguably, khaenri’ah as a whole—hurt him, sure, but he still feels some loyalty and connection to his former home. instead of revealing anything, he lets the situation play out. that way, he can’t be blamed when things fall apart.

the thing about claiming he’s untrustworthy is that hardly anyone in-game believes that. he’s adored by the older folks in mondstadt, and foes and allies alike find him easy to talk to. despite seeming lazy and uninterested in work, kaeya takes his job very seriously. in fact, his story states that crepus’s death was the “first and only time kaeya failed in his duty.” the “only time” is especially important, because it signifies kaeya still fulfills his duties successfully. he’s had a total of one slip-up, and hasn’t failed since. no, kaeya is not untrustworthy. rather, kaeya finds everyone else untrustworthy. it’s not unlikely that this is a direct consequence of being abandoned as a child. although it’s been established that kaeya and diluc were very close as children, when crepus dies, kaeya assumes diluc is the one that killed him. in order to jump to such an extreme conclusion against someone he was so close to, there had to be some underlying sense of distrust. furthermore, kaeya expresses feeling as though he doesn’t belong anywhere. he was abandoned by khaenri’ah, and then worried he wouldn’t be accepted by mondstadt. he is, but there’s still that worry. if you place him in your teapot as a companion, he tells you that your home feels like someplace he belongs, following it up with a “heh, who’d have thought…” kaeya still feels as though he doesn’t belong in mondstadt; despite the fact that he’s a high-ranking knight of favonius and rather popular, he still feels like an outsider. he doesn’t trust that anyone actually wants him around, and he finds joy in testing peoples’ trustworthiness. it’s noted in his story and through his voicelines that the beloved cavalry captain has a rather sadistic nature. he likes putting people into difficult situations, to see what decisions they will make. he does this to both opponents and allies, testing to see who’s going to back out and who’ll keep fighting; in the sake of allies, who can he trust? or who will turn tail and abandon their teammates at the slightest hint of danger? i mentioned it previously, but kaeya doesn’t care what measures he has to take so long as his job gets done and he gets the answers he wants. it’s a sort of self-preserving mindset, putting himself above the safety of others. kaeya’s trying to protect himself, which makes sense with all he’s been through. he doesn’t want to be hurt, and instead finds pleasure in threatening harm upon others. it’s twisted, sure, but it’s because he can only trust himself in a world that he believes is out to get him. he’s got as many enemies—if not more—as he does allies; of course kaeya focuses on protecting himself first, whether physically or through keeping his secrets, well, secret.

his most obvious traumatic effect is definitely his alcoholism. but he uses it as a distraction, not just to wallow in self-pity. this is seen again in his story, particularly in story 3. it’s found that when his favorite drink, death after noon, is out of season, mondstadt’s crime rate is decreased drastically. at face value, this just means kaeya spends more time working when death after noon is low in supply. but kaeya doesn’t skip work to go to taverns; it’s already been established he takes his job very seriously, so this means he actually patrols and tracks down threats while off work when he can’t indulge in his favorite alcoholic drink. he doesn’t get drunk simply because he’s depressed. if he did, there wouldn’t be a drop in incidents when death after noon is out of season. no, kaeya uses both the alcohol and fighting to distract himself. after all, it’s a little hard to think about feeling sad when you’re either drunk out of your mind or fighting for your life.

despite being so secretive, kaeya gives us glimpses of his true emotions from time to time. as previously mentioned, his flirty attitude is nothing more than a mask to hide how he really feels; and kaeya is terribly, terribly lonely. that may be why he seems so extroverted. constantly being around people should, logically, drive away that feeling, but it doesn’t work like that. when he talks with the player, he frequently expresses disappointment when you have to leave. each time, though, he dampens the weight of his words with playful or flirty language. he’s lonely, but doesn’t want you to know that, like he’s afraid of asking you to stay. he takes the seriousness of his feelings, and basically bends it into some sort of lighthearted joke. kaeya hides his true feelings—negative feelings, to be exact—so that he doesn’t bother anyone. which is, again, something that happens with traumatized people. he displays that hesitance to reveal his true feelings, because there’s a shame or guilt that comes with his past. he doesn’t want to bother others or hold them back, so he puts on a smile and amps up the charisma. one other very important thing—but very small detail—i would like to note is his feelings toward family. his fell apart not even once, but twice, and kaeya still holds familial relationships in high regard. we know he doesn’t exactly care how he goes about getting his work done. he doesn’t pay attention to what’s “right” or “wrong,” so long as he gets what he needs. but one of his informants, vile, notes that the cavalry captain has one exception: he won’t work with those who threaten others’ families. in fact, kaeya claims those who do should be hunted down and destroyed. even though his own families have caused him so much pain—and he ended up estranged from both—he still understands the importance of having people who love you in your life. because he didn’t get that.

kaeya’s not evil. ultimately, as a knight of favonius, his goal is to protect others, because no one was there to protect him. and because no one was there to protect him, because he’s been hurt time and time again by people who were supposed to love him, kaeya has taken to protecting himself. he hides any and all negative feelings with a charismatic, friendly façade, because he thinks it’ll drive away his persistent loneliness. any “bad” actions of his were hardly his fault; he was forced into a life of secrecy and lies, and then abandoned by the first people who truly loved him. kaeya’s a multi-faceted, tragic character, one that toes the line between good and evil, and that’s what makes him so interesting.

[liaswritesrobots]

Hello can I please get a romantic matchup for RID 2001 and MTMTE? (Or if not RID, then 2 matchups for MTMTE?) Thank you very much in advance and I absolutely love your work!

At first glance, I’m rather shy, reserved, and introverted. I try to be as polite and nice as possible to people I first meet, but I can’t help but worry over whether I’m coming off as too rude or if I’m over-sharing due to my lack of social skills and my horrible social anxiety. However if someone somehow manages to get me to open up, I’m much more talkative about whatever’s on my mind, whether it’s sharing something I learned sometime in the past or something that I’m interested in. But as much as I enjoy talking about what’s on my mind, I’d hate for it to be a one-sided conversation unless someone truthfully expresses that they’re fine with just listening. I’m fine with talking about anything as long as it doesn’t delve into anything either of us are uncomfortable with. While I don’t seem all too outgoing, it’s because I don’t bother to spend time with people I dislike unless I ultimately have to, so if it’s to spend time with someone I’m fond of, I’m willing to go outdoors or out on a drive with them. Unfortunately I’m sensitive, and my self-esteem never existed in the first place, nor do I really share how I’m really doing with most people unless I completely trust them. Some people have described me as thoughtful since I always ask how people are and how their day has gone. At times, I draw art for my friends or pick up snacks/drinks I know they like from the store. In my free time I enjoy drawing digitally, listening to music, playing video games, and writing stories.

I match you with...

Prowl (RID2001) and Rung (IDW)

Neither mind that you're shy and reserved at first and won't push you out of your comfort zone. They like how polite you are and reassure you that they don't find you rude at all. They love it when you open up to them and become more talkative and thoughtful, and neither mind just listening to you if they don't have anything they want to talk about at the moment. They're also very good listeners and will memorize lots of little details of the stuff you tell them, especially about your interests. They also try to help you with your anxiety and low self-esteem, trying to reassure you whenever they can. They don't mind that you're not too outgoing either, as they prefer a day indoors with you anyway. They're honored if you open up to how you feel with them and do their best to make sure they never break that trust. They love to see your art and writing when you share it with them, especially when you make something for him. They also love to listen to music with you and watch you play your favorite video games as they ask you questions about it.

Other possible matches: Optimus Prime (RID2001), Sky-Byte (RID2001), Railspike (RID2001), Ultra Magnus (IDW), Red Alert (IDW), Swerve (IDW)

[yelenasdog]

the pillowtalk of a pessimist (spencer reid x fem reader)

genre: fluff with a millisecond of angst

summary: pillowtalk takes an interesting turn for spencer at the mention of the harsh realities of his work.

words: 1.3k, she’s a shorty.

warnings: nsfw themes (nothing smutty, it’s just implied and also directly stated that they slept together), typical criminal minds violence + death, and maybe cursing? idk. 

a/n: btw this isn’t the fic i was ranting on about that i’m writing, she’s still in the works. also! this could be an x oc or anybody bc i didn’t use y/n if you would prefer to read it as such.

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

A pale stream of moonlight shone through the open window of apartment 23, the home of Doctor Spencer Reid. It illuminated a small section of his bedroom, specifically on one of his many floor to ceiling bookshelves, a beacon of knowledge that was there 24/7 for the taking.

The gold engravings on the spines of his many reads shimmered, a beautiful contrast to the dark mahogany the shelf was made out of.

The room smelled like a mixture of his cologne, her perfume (Chanel no. 5, specifically), and the results of their previous affairs that lingered in the crisp air of the night.

She took a deep breath, settling down further into the white duvet, pulling it over her bosom in response to the chilly temperature. The dark green walls of the room welcomed and calmed her, overwhelming the girl with a wave of serenity that could only be brought to her by him.

He quickly took note of her unsteady breathing and shift in position, immediately jumping to action. He pulled her closer by her shoulders with his strong arms, eliciting a squeal from her and a chuckle from him, more so at her reaction than the move itself.

Her head laid on his bare chest, her hair splayed out with half of it residing on his pillow, the other half on his bicep. She could have appeared to be an angel, although in his eyes, she truly was.

She rested her hand on the left side of his chest over his heart, her fingernail ghosting shapes on his tanned skin. Circles, squiggly lines, even abstract faces.

“How do you do it?”

Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. If his hearing wasn’t so acute, he was sure he would have missed it. This would have saddened the genius greatly, as he valued everything she had to say with a burning ferocity, and even one word lost would be a shame.

“What?”

He was confused by the nature of the question, attempting to search every corner of his brilliant brain for what she might have been referencing. Was it an equation? No, she hated math. Perhaps the way he so effortlessly could play any instrument because yet again, math. He decided that couldn’t be the subject at question either, she played better than he did, glorious melodies flowed from her fingertips. So the doctor was truly stumped.

The answer was simpler than he had imagined.

“Your job.”

With those doe eyes he was so fond of, she looked up, meeting his own glance.

If the term “heart eyes” was able to be personified, Spencer would be the guy to personify it whenever his eyes landed on the one in front of him.

“What do you mean? I get up in the morning, drink some coffee, and get to it.”

She giggled, but the sound he loved so much ceased with her pout.

“That’s not what I mean, Spence. How do you go on everyday, seeing body after body,” she trailed off, obviously distraught. Spencer wrapped his large hand tighter around her, placing his chin on her hairline.

“How do you consistently manage to look at these victims, these people, with lives that they never got to finish living-“ A tear slipped down her cheek, she bit her bottom lip, tasting her own salty droplets on her tongue. She sniffled, burying her head further in his neck with what he presumed was shame.

“And not break down when you do.” Her voice was muffled, but the emotions she felt were evident nonetheless.

He took a moment to carefully articulate an appropriate response. The gears in his mind turned ever so diligently, finding a solution to dry her tears.

“It’s not much different than what I initially said. I get up in the morning, drink some coffee.”

He pushed a hair away from her face, admiring her distinct features as he often did. She looked up, moving her left hand to trace his sharp jaw as he sat in thought.

“And I realize that these people that are now dead, are a part of the hundreds, of throusands, of millions of people that die every year. It’s a part of life, what gives it meaning.”

She gave a dry, humourless laugh.

“What, you don’t have a specific statistic for that?”

“Oh, I do, but I don’t think you want to hear it.” He tilted his head, weighing the option of disclosing the information but deciding against it.

“But the bottom line is, they have families. Families that are grieving, and hurting, and needing answers and justice. I cannot do my job and give them the closure they deserve if I’m staying focused on my own emotions and delving deep into who the victims were, rather than how to catch those responsible for hurting them.”

She moved on to her back, stilling managing to keep her eye contact with Spencer.

“But you’re a profiler! That’s what you do! You’re supposed to, what did you call it, ‘delve deep’ into who they are.”

“Pretty girl, are you trying to tell the one with 3 doctorates how to do his job?”

She rolled her eyes, lazily throwing a hand on his neck, right behind his ear. She ran it back and forth, savoring the intimate moment.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up, Agent.” She taunted, poorly trying (and failing) to agitate Spencer. She had a hunch (that was more true than either of them would let on) that it wasn’t possible for her to do so, and he found himself proving it to be correct.

“I just had to learn to let the family do what they had to do so that I could do the same.”

The girl’s tone softened as she spoke, staring at the popcorn ceiling.

“I guess so. I’m just too empathetic, my heart is too pure.” She joked, a feathery laugh falling past both of their lips.

“Of course. I would expect nothing less.” He teased back, enjoying the dynamic they both held in the tender moment.

“You amaze me.” She muttered, leaning in, analyzing him and his ruffled post-sex hair, his gorgeously long lashes, and his light 5 o’clock shadow that donned his chin.

He huffed quietly, doing the exact same thing, minus the scruff of course.

“I could say the same to you, pretty girl.”

Their lips connected once again, in a different manner than the feverish and needy kiss from before.

This time, it was a union of two individuals, allowing themselves to mould together in a way only the two of them could. It was slower and sweeter, with more feeling poured into their lips while they moved in sync.

“M’ tired.”

“Yeah? You wanna go to sleep, bubs?”

She grinned as she snuggled into his arms, her exhausted eyes fluttering to a close.

“Bubs, huh? That’s new.”

A worried frown made its way onto his face as he rushed to cover up his previous words.

“D-do you not like it? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable-“

“Spence.”

He stopped, looking over her for any microexpressions, only seeing positive signs. That wasn’t technically profiling, right? He hoped he would be in the clear if she ever was to find out.

“I love it, baby. Say it again.”

“Bubs?”

“Mhm. Say it again.” She sounded with content. He smirked, a proud feeling infiltrating his body, causing him to puff up his chest in the slightest way.

“Goodnight, bubs.”

He reached up, his paranoia forcing him to close the window above him, despite being a more than qualified FBI agent with a revolver safely tucked away in the top drawer of his night stand that never quite was shut all the way.

It was just the pessimist in him.

She wrapped around his figure, intertwining his form with her own.

“Sleep well, Spence.”

He felt happy with her, happier than he had been in a long time. He relished in that, allowing it to lull him to a well needed rest.

But what could he say, she just brought out the optimist in him.

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

hj posting at a time that isn’t 3 am?????? unheard of. also i may or may not have pulled an all nighter to write whatever tf this is bc my ex posted something with his new gf and i felt pathetic LMAO. anyway, i hope your day is fabulous, go drink some water and remember things are what you make of them and it’s all about intent! love you, xx hj.

[beautifulsnake2162020]

Ikevamp headcanons after watching Hamilton

Quick disclaimer: Yes I know this is a show about people who had owned slaves and slavery is bad. Having said that there's a reason why we suspend disbelief for a couple of hours and just allow ourselves to be swept into the story. I also love Phantom of the Opera but I also am aware that this is a story that involves an abusive and toxic relationship. The point is that I am aware that there are problems that needs to be discussed, but I still love the music, the story and the shows okay. This is just fan content not meant to be taken seriously and is just for fun. Okay? Now let's proceed.

I'll be doing Will and Arthur first since I'm currently doing Shakespeare's route and was inspired to do this after MC watches Romeo and Juliet with Vincent and I was wondering how Will would react to watching Hamilton. And Arthur is here because he is my husband/main lover. I might do Mozart and Napoleon next.

SPOILER ALERT: For anyone who hasn't seen the Disney Plus version of Hamilton, there might be some spoilers here (unless you already saw the show or know the story that is).

General Scenario:

You don't know how but Le Comte was able to get the filmed version of Hamilton, a musical which you've told Sebastian that you've been dying to see but was never able to because tickets were always sold out and entering the lottery was going to be a little too expensive for someone who lives in Japan and who doesn't exactly have the money or the time to simply fly to New York if in case she won. You were also excited because apparently Le Comte was able to modify the 21st century tech room that you use for your online classes and was able to get a wide screen and high quality surround sound which made you appreciate his efforts. A part of you was also curious as to how the other residents would react. You were scared that some of them might take offense, especially Napoleon who knew one of the characters in the show in real life. Would they react weirdly for seeing people different from them portray people that they knew? You were also wondering if they might even appreciate some of the 21st century slang that you and Sebastian would sometimes slip back into whenever it was just the two of you alone. After talking it out with everyone and explaining a few more things (like how its probably going to be different since it is a series of captured pictures-or at least that's your closest analogy- being played super fast with the synchronized sound of the actors- or what you were almost tempted to call "Techno Magic") during a dinner in which Shakespeare had decided to be present in, they were actually interested in what this show is about. Napoleon convinced you that he's fine and actually someone else playing Lafayette might even help with the suspension of disbelief since its been awhile since he has last met him anyway. Will even mentioned that while he has read and heard about stories from America, this is probably going to be the first story or production he's going to see from it. The only one who showed any hesitation - to no one's surprise - was Mozart, since he is attached to the kind of music he is familiar with (aren't we all?). But after prodding from both Jean, Le Comte and you giving him the puppy eyes, he finally relents. The day comes when everyone was once again free and for practicality everyone decided to have a meal first so that they won't be hungry during the show and also for you, Le Comte, and Sebastian to explain a few things everyone else may need to know to truly appreciate the show (like how the Presidential system and elections worked during the setting, what the word "Rewind" means, what is beatboxing, etc). So finally everyone gathered into the tech room after the meal, the lights were dimmed and once everyone was settled, you hit play. And as self-predicted of you, you find yourself crying in the end.

William Shakespeare (I'm still doing his route so please don't hate me if I get him wrong. Also no spoilers please).

- He was a bit shocked at first by how exactly up close you could see the facial expressions of the actors as well as the various ways it would cut to another person. He could now understand why you struggled with trying to explain how its played in a theatre but not exactly like the theatrical experience. But as you saw in your periphery, by the time Philippa Soo sings her first line, Will had already adjusted and allowed himself to be an audience and shut off his director and actor mindset (for the most part at least).

- While he didn't specialize in musicals, he found himself paying attention to the story of "the ten dollar founding father without a father." He knows how music could help both the actors and the audience in succumbing to their emotions in a scene and to suspend disbelief from reality. In his productions the words are not overwhelmed by any score but rather complemented to bring out the emotion he wants to evoke and for actors to show. Since many parts of the show has been influenced by the spoken word style without completely removing it from being sung, he has become enlightened with how powerful a show can be when it is done right.

- He not only enjoyed the story (especially the flow of it) and the production (especially some of the more technical details that the other residents hadn't noticed as far as a stage production is concerned), he loved that even the ensemble members had good acting and some of the onstage humor. One of the meta things he enjoyed was the obvious reference to his most superstitious work.

- Once you've seen how he loves analyzing the technical details of the production, you excitedly tell him about a special member of the ensemble who is known as "The bullet" among fans of the show. You could see him being enlightened as he watches the show with you again (this time with just the two of you) and he now sees "the bullet" and the way she interacts with the characters in a whole different light. He was so impressed with this idea that he may have adapted it into one of his new original plays (its not a copy paste of Hamilton's "bullet" but he definitely adapted assigning a member of the ensemble to have a special role that may not be significant at first, but he heavily notes that this member would have to be unique in interacting with any of the other characters).

- He didn't know what to expect from a 21st Century production but he found himself impressed with the prose and writing of various raps and songs. His favorite from Act 1 in terms of rhyme schemes was "Right Hand Man" and from Act 2 it was Jefferson's rap in "Washington by your side". And after settling down a bit his favorite emotional parts were "History has its eyes on you", "Hurricane", and "It's quiet uptown".

- He was impressed with how the double roles was given and how it actually is true for both of their roles in both acts. Ambiguity is one of his favorite things to have in a work, and he gives props to Lin for all the ambiguity he later realizes was in several parts of the show. If he and Arthur had been a little bit more closer, they probably would have bonded over the ambiguity Hamilton's comma in his letter to Angelica (see kids, grammar matters).

- A part of his brain wonders how the real life Hamilton would react to this and if him and Burr would still be enemies. But after some thinking he decides its not worth his efforts of asking anyone to bring them back since a wonderful production of their life has already been made even if it may not necessarily reflect who they truly are. He of all people knew what it's like to be inspired by great figures, it was fortunate that Lin Manuel Miranda decided to make a show about them before he had the chance to.

- You explain that in America Hamilton is one of the lesser known founding fathers of their nation and how it may be because his political opponents later on became Presidents and therefore was able to form the narrative. He becomes inspired by it and begins to search out people or stories who are hidden gems who may not be historically famous but had much more interesting stories than some of the ones he has heard of.

- Afterwards once you are sure that he has gotten comfortable enough with the genre you show him various videos of people rapping to his works and his reactions range from impressed to amused to "that's not what I mean when I wrote that" and you had to calm him down and explain that they can't hear him anyway after he started giving serious critiques on what the text means.

Arthur Conan Doyle

- While he was knowledgeable about many things, America's founding fathers was not one of them. He along with the other residents have gotten used to any rumors or exaggerated accounts of their lives and you and Sebastian have already warned that this is just a fictionalized production of the real person. As a writer of some historical fiction books he argued that he of all people was aware that any work based on history will speak more about the creators rather than the actual people they are writing about most of the time. He was nevertheless interested as to why you have become fascinated with the treasury secretary (and maybe it was with a twinge of jealousy that you began to expressly show admiration to another man even if he wasn't among the residents in the mansion). After all unlike many other residents of the mansion, on the surface it seemed that Hamilton was similar to Theo who mainly played a supporting but crucial role to his brother. He was thankful that you didn't hold it against him and was comforted that you were in a similar place. You even told him that the only thing you really knew about Hamilton before listening to the soundtrack and watching "Animatics" was that he was in the ten dollar American bill.

- And as someone who has delved into writing historical fictions, this was probably one of the most entertaining productions about a historical figure he has seen. He's going to be honest with you in that at first he was wondering if revealing Burr shot Hamilton in the opening was going to hinder him from enjoying the show; but he was pleasantly surprised that this was not the case at all. As a matter of fact it now made him want to find out who the real Hamilton was (although a part of him doubts if the real Hamilton had any regrets at all). According to him, this is why as a fictionalized historical work, the show is a success because it makes you want to find out more about the events and figures of the story (even if it means looking at darker realities that they did). And while the real Hamilton may be a lot different from what was shown, with all the things he went through and all the things he has done (for better or worse), he now wonders why exactly Le Comte hadn't approached him since he seems to be no better or worse than the average resident ("He and Newt could probably discuss mathematics all day."). You then explained that his political rivals (Jefferson and Madison from the show, and Monroe who wasn't shown in the musical) had later on become Presidents and was able to shape the narrative away from Hamilton. "Ron Chernow made Hamilton's biography because he was the lesser known founding father who was fading into obscurity among Americans and Lin read the book and recognized the story of someone who has risen through his writings. And to Lin that was also the story of hiphop." While he wasn't involved in politics as much as Hamilton was, Arthur had enough experience to know what it feels like to have those kinds of people in power. He also knows just how powerful it is to be in "the room where it happened" and how sometimes the real decisions weren't being made in an office but rather in either a private party or the right bar when people in power had their guard down and were more susceptible to being influenced.

- He could relate a lot with Hamilton on many things that he's only comfortable allowing either you or Theo to see. From being just so much more aware of death's inevitability coming for every living thing to survivor's guilt even though a part of him knows its irrational (but sometimes the emotional nonsense just overtakes our perspectives and actions). It's why he could understand Hamilton's need to write as much as he can before he dies. It's why for a time in his human life he had deviated from writing about Holmes and ventured into other genres. He could also relate to the need to prove what type of person he was, and how to go beyond his tragedies to serve people in their own ways. Hamilton did it as a soldier and the creator of America's financial system. And he is doing it as an informally practicing doctor and as a writer. It's a need that he's trying to mitigate since you've repeatedly told him that he doesn't need to prove anything to you or to anyone and to write whatever he pleases. But he also can't deny that it's still somewhere lodged in the back of his head.

- Just like William Shakespeare, in terms of the wordplay found in rap and the ambiguity present in the show and how those things were executed made him amazed and momentarily speechless. He was especially fanboying about "The comma after dearest" and how this essentially shows how important grammar was. It went to the extent that afterwards whenever he would write to you he would address you either as "My dearest, Y/N" or "My darling, Y/N" with special emphasis on the comma (sometimes you could see how there's more ink in the comma than some of the actual words. That's how much he wants to emphasize that you hold the title of dearest or darling). And you excitedly share with him some of the trivia knowledge of the show (like how in real life it was Angelica who originally made the comma mistake by writing to Hamilton as "My dear, sir" in one of her letters and it was Hamilton who was asking her what the comma means and even replied with "Ma chere, soeur") and how Angelica really did reference the Icarus metaphor in one of her letters to Eliza. And even though he wasn't a major musical nerd (he sang for fun), he would now join you in watching Howard Ho's Hamilton videos musically analyzing Hamilton (and would probably try to find a way to use this knowledge to annoy Mozart in some way).

- Speaking of music: Maybe it's because he's biased in his love for you but aside from Sebastian he's probably the one who has no qualms about the hiphop genre and was immediately into the various wordplays that rapping allowed. And because of this his favorite characters in terms of rapping are the ones played by Daveed Diggs (probably more than Hamilton himself even though you've explained that Lin is the one who wrote the whole thing). He even adapts to how Daveed as Jefferson would say Isaac's third law and incorporated it into his "let's tease Newton" kit. That's when you know he really loves Daveed Diggs ("Every action has an equal opposite -" "WILL YOU PLEASE STOP SAYING IT THAT WAY?! I didn't mind the first few times but this is ridiculous Arthur" "It must be nice, it must be nice to have a Newton on your side"). And his favorite character emotionally was Angelica (her raps in Schuyler Sisters and Satisfied may have helped).

- Speaking of the Schuyler Sisters, after watching it with you another time (this time with just the two of you) one of his favorite things to say is that you've got the best of all three sisters within you (Angelica's wittiness and intelligence, Eliza's cares for the more important things in life, and Peggy's humor) with the sexiness of Maria Reynolds. But because he sees all 4 of them in you he has the benefit of not needing to choose among them. Having said that there will be a period wherein he teases you if he makes you "Helpless" or "Satisfied" (and you respond either by kissing him or singing "That would be enough").

- Whenever you would sing as one of the Schuyler sisters he will join you as any of the male characters the moment he masters the soundtrack and could even sing it without the music. His favorite rap songs are "Guns and Ships", "Washington on your side", and of course "Satisfied". He also really loves "Non-stop", "the 10 duel commandments", and "The room where it happened". But his favorite sequence is from "the Winter's Ball" all the way to "Wait for it". Since it has romance, a shocking revelation, and gives insight to the perspective of the antagonist. He's also one of the first people to attempt to learn the choreography whenever he's in one of his mental blocks in writing. Of course he makes sure not to injure himself.

- He posts song lyrics to keep himself motivated in his times of mental block "There's a million things I haven't done. But just you wait" and "I'm not throwing away my shot" frequently appear around his desk.

-And whenever he's feeling low or insecure, just like Eliza you remind him to "Look around, Look around, how lucky we are to be alive right now."

[dragonseattofu]

NekuShiki question time! #2 :)

Who said "I love you" first? When?

Do they ever go dancing? How does it go?

Who is more affectionate with the other?

First I love you

The person who I envision to say the first “I love you” in the post-NEO world would be Neku. Pre-NEO I would hands down have thought it would be Shiki, because out of the two I feel like Neku’s more of an awkward sort and wouldn’t know how to put romantic feelings into words. But after NEO I feel like Neku became a little better at conveying his feelings and here’s why:

He watched her exit the elevator. She was talking to someone holding a camera bag, possibly the photographer she had just hired a couple of days ago. He remembered their evening meal yesterday, one he had to pry her away from her work to partake in, relating to her upcoming photoshoot. He learned their usual photographer had double booked and she had to scramble to find a replacement. The replacement looked young, around their age, and seemed to be bowing a goodbye to her before walking towards the exit behind him.

Neku continued to watch her, as she pulled out her phone from her Mr. Mew purse. Shiki tapped furiously at the screen, with speed rivaling Nagi, and seconds later he felt a buzz in his pocket.

After tucking her phone back away, Shiki moved toward the turnstiles situated near the door and finally saw him. It took her a second to overcome the surprise, he didn’t tell her that he was coming to pick her up, but she immediately brightened as she walked toward him at a steadfast pace.

How many days, months, years had he waited and hoped for to see a sight like this? To feel like this? Like his chest tightening in anticipation of her being in his arms, his cheeks warming at her smiling at him for simply … existing? How long had he spent thinking about the life he could have had with his friends, with her?

When Neku was dropped into the Shinjuku UG, he went into shock. Why? Why was he back when he was banned from ever playing the game again? He had just gotten his life back. He finally didn’t feel so alone in the vast seas of Shibuya.

But then he got shot … again.

His cynical side thought, maybe this was his retribution. He didn’t deserve friends, not after what he did to him…

But then he remembered them, and what they had all said to him.

“Let me in! Tell me what you're thinking!”

“Give up on yourself, and you give up on the world.”

“You're not my partner anymore man, you're... my friend. So trus' that yo!”

Come on, work with us. A problem shared is a problem halved!

And then he could have sworn he heard her…

“You finally came back to us … I knew you would.”

“I’m so happy you're back, Neku.”

He didn’t remember her saying that to him, but it wasn’t the first time he felt like he saw things that haven’t happened yet, things that could happen if he played his cards right. Visions of a future that gave him some … hope.

Every battle he fought, every new area he stumbled into, every floating thought he passed, all led to this hope that he would get back to his friends.

When he wasn’t fighting to survive, or when Coco was standing watch so he could rest, he thought about them. Was Beat skipping classes still? Was Rhyme learning how to do those ollies Beat was trying to teach her. Was Shiki … was Shiki hanging out with Eri right now? Was she fixing a stitch on Mr. Mew? Did she miss him, the same way he missed her?

His time in the RG after playing three weeks in the reapers game was short, but nothing less than wonderful. Shiki and Neku went on a couple outings together, just the two of them when the Bito siblings had family errands. It started out a little awkward, especially when familiar restaurant and store keepers thought they were an item already. A specific ramen owner was the worst of them all even though his teasing came from a place of fondness for the pair.

Without him realizing, being with Shiki was almost as natural as breathing, and every moment he spent with her was fun, interesting, precious to him.

Neku didn’t get the time he needed to work out how important Shiki was to him before being plunged into the Shinjuku UG, but three years of company to only the disembodied thoughts of lost souls and an occasional “fairy” reaper gave him the opportunity to delve into it. The conclusion he reached gave him the motivation to keep fighting, to keep surviving. For once, he had someone worth living for.

“Earth to Neku?” Shiki waved her hands in front of his face.

He blinked, bringing himself back to the present. Shiki stood on her toes, trying to look at his face underneath his overgrown bangs. He felt her touch his cheek, concern marring her adorable face.

He hates that he brought so much strain to her life. Maybe she could have been happier with someone else, someone who wouldn’t break their promise to go shopping the next day and abruptly disappear.

But then she smiled at him, having noticed that he simply zoned out. And all of a sudden his negativity stopped spiralling and he felt grounded again. He may not feel like he deserved her, but she chose him nonetheless.

She chose to never give up on him, that he would survive the ordeal he was thrust into. She chose to be the best version of herself that she could be while she waited for him.

And then even after all that time had passed, she still chose to be with him.

Neku didn’t know if there was a word that encompassed the overwhelming emotion he felt whenever he thought of Shiki. One certainly felt close enough though.

“Hey Shiki?” He asked, putting his larger hand over her smaller one that lingered on his cheek.

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he said that to anyone, if he did at all. Even though Neku had told Shiki almost immediately after his arrival in the RG that he wanted to be more than friends, he hadn’t used that word before. Love was still such a foreign concept that he wasn’t sure he understood it completely, but if there was anyone in the whole world he could associate love with, it would be Shiki.

Shiki’s hand on his face stiffened at the sudden confession. For a hot second, maybe it wasn’t the time or place she expected him to say it. He felt a slight panic from the doubt of her not reciprocating his feelings.

But those thoughts were quickly thrown out when she leaned in and kissed him.

It was a kiss longer than they had ever shared before. She was physically telling him something, but he was a little preoccupied to fully process anything. Shiki pulled away, far quicker than Neku would have liked, carrying the sweetest grin he ever saw on her.

“I love you too, Neku.”

Dancing

Shiki would have this fancy company dinner that she’d have to go to for networking. As friendly as Shiki is, she’s still introverted and the whole event just sounds utterly exhausting. Neku would be her plus one, because even if that’s the last place he would rather be, he’s her partner, and that’s that. She gets well enough along with everyone, but she has to make the rounds and greet everybody, leaving Neku alone at times. Thankfully Eri’s also there, and the girls take turns between networking and keeping Neku company. He surprises both of them when the head designer for Jupes notices Neku’s deep purple button down shirt from Jupes under a Gatto Nero’s half grey plaid - half black solid blazer (it’s visually better in my head than what I just described), and wants to talk to the designer of the jacket. Neku goes full endorsing mode for his girlfriend, and smiles smug when the girls realize they didn’t need to worry about him, much less securing a major deal with a major brand for a collaboration. He’s pretty happy with himself when he hears a version of Someday play on the surround sound. The dance floor opens up, and a couple of people start a waltz.

Neku thinks to himself, it’s an odd thing to have a dance in the middle of a company dinner, but dinners in the fashion industry are often hosted by the most eccentric of people, and he supposes it’s not so peculiar after all.

The melody plays soft and slow, and if he’s honest with himself, it’s a pretty good rendition of one of his favorite songs. He sees Shiki from the corner of his eye, silently asking her to dance as he extends his hand out. She’s surprised at the gesture. Neku’s many things, but dancer’s not one of them. The exaggerated kicks he’s so fond of are sort of hard to move elegantly in. A simple slow dance, he thinks, is enough for him to handle. Her thin finger slipped effortlessly into his hand.

More affectionate

Post-NEO, I feel that both are pretty affectionate toward one another, but in different ways. Shiki’s more physically affectionate, she’s more of a hugger and is always holding his hand, or his clothes, just so she can feel that he’s there. He doesn’t initiate physical touch as often as she does, but he never let’s go, or moves away from it. This happens more naturally as they start dating, snuggles and such.

Neku’s more affectionate verbally. He’s gotten comfortable saying what’s on his mind more often. He’s not shy about complimenting her, she doesn’t need his reassurances but his opinion is important to her nonetheless. He’s a natural flirt; says things that would be considered suave without intention. He would say pick up lines without realizing that they were pick up lines.

Okay, so I’m like not really sure how best to put my thoughts together but here goes:

The Shibuya and Twister kiddos would all be at some fashion function, and the Fret and Beat would comment on how attractive some of the models are. Neku would just be like, “yeah, they are attractive, but they aren’t as beautiful as Shiki.” Him referring to how much he loves her appearance as well as her personality, whereas he knows nothing about these girls so all he is going on is their looks.

And of course Shiki, who has pins in her mouth and is trying to get her models ready, hears this. Her jaw loosens and the pins fall on the floor. She’s essentially flushed and flabbergasted, by what he said and how nonchalant he said it. He looks at her like he said nothing wrong. Then he just smiles at her, and she just stutters out curse words. She doesn’t have time for this.

Notes: I’m so sorry for the late reply. I’m such a slow thinker and writer! But thanks again for the ask! The first prompt sort of snowballed. Hope you like it! @doesitringabell, I added a collection on Ao3 dedicated to you for any/all other prompts that end up longer than I had anticipated. Check out the source content.

Also sorry for any typos and such, let me know if you spot any. If anyone is still interested in my rambling mess of Neshiki fanfics/ficlets, don’t hesitate to send me more asks! It might take a while, but just know that my moments of silence are just me tinkering with ideas (writing something, hating it, revising it, writing again, rinse, repeat, then screw this, just take it.)

[hallowxiu]

A Humanistic Fascination

pairing: human!mammon/demon!gn!mc

word count: 3.6k

summary: After your sister Lilith died, you wondered what attracted her to humans in the first place. Your answer comes in the form of a white-haired human named Mammon.

a/n: well this was fun! I kind of want to turn this into a series where mammon is the human selected for the exchange program, but I’m not sure if anyone would be interested. Just let me know; I’m friendly, I don’t bite!! :)

Ever since the day Lilith died and you fell, you had an undying curiosity of humans. You wanted to know what it was about them that drew your sister in so much, a thirst where she was willing to risk and leave everything behind. While your brother Belphegor distanced himself from the humans he once adored, you had done the opposite. Before you and your brothers fell, you didn’t much care for humans. You didn’t dislike them, but you also didn’t like them either. Lilith and Belphegor were always the two to marvel at the creatures down below.

You wanted to know if you missed something. Maybe you didn’t see something the other two had. While your youngest brother now despised them, you wanted to see what drew him in in the first place. Humans had been somewhat of a touchy subject in the House of Lamentation. The obvious reason was Belphegor; anything human related would set him off and it wasn’t a pretty sight. However, the obvious shift in the room whenever humans were brought up was hard to miss.

As the second eldest, you had a bit of a responsibility placed on your shoulders to be a good role model, especially now that the brothers were lost and grieving. Recently, Lord Diavolo had suggested an exchange program where angels and humans would come to the Devildom to learn about the culture in an attempt to join the three realms and have peace. You thought enough time had passed since falling for the brothers to at least consider the idea, but Belphegor had a meltdown and Lucifer nearly locked him up over it. You also noticed a hesitance in your older brother as well. That being said, you wanted to make things easier for everyone. You made sure to help Lucifer with his paperwork so he could get at least some level of sleep, you kept Satan company whenever he felt lonely, you tried to understand all the lingo Leviathan had a tendency to throw out, you tried new foods with Beelzebub (as Belphegor wanted time alone more and more these days…), and you went shopping with Asmodeus every now and then. Belphegor was a different case; he was isolating himself more than Leviathan and you could barely get through to your younger brother. A part of you was hoping that by figuring out more about humans, that you’d somehow be able to get closer with your brother. It was a long shot, and you weren’t even sure it would work, but it was all you had. Even Beelzebub was having a hard time with him these days.

And that’s how you ended up in the human realm. Although you were trying to be a good role model, you did have to sneak away every now and then. Lucifer would never approve of you going to the human realm alone, he had become especially protective of you since falling. You couldn’t blame him; you knew he harbored a lot of blame for the way things ended with Lilith so you tried to be as understanding as you possibly could. That being said, you tried. You still needed to do some things for yourself, and this was one of them. You figured if Lord Diavolo really did plan on hosting an exchange program, growing accustomed to humans and their respective realm would do you some good. For the most part, you stayed hidden in the shadows. When your brothers would travel, like Asmodeus or Satan, they liked to be seen by humans. Never in their demon form (although Satan did lose his temper on that one trip; you try not to delve into that), but they liked to be acknowledged. You were closer to Leviathan in the sense that you liked to blend in with the humans rather than stand out. Unwanted attention might get you into trouble, and the last thing you needed was Lucifer chewing you out about being reckless.

Your eyes narrowed as you observed the streets, taking in the mannerisms of the humans walking by. You were in a busy city and it was mid-December with plenty of human holiday traditions popping up. The hustle and bustle of the city were appealing to you and you could see why so many humans marveled at cities and longed to live there. You were walking through the crowd, hands stuffed in the pockets of your coat despite not being even a bit cold. You wanted to fit in though, so you tried to match everyone else. You noticed how everyone was too busy to look at one another; people rushing by too focused on their everyday lives. At the moment, you couldn’t tell what your two siblings found so appealing about humans. They seemed a little selfish if anything.

And, although ironic enough, you were too busy thinking to yourself to notice others around you, which led you straight into slamming into the chest of someone. “Oi, what the hell-- why don’t ya watch where you’re goin’?” The first thing you noticed was the accent. It was odd, and it certainly didn’t seem to match those of the people surrounding you. The second thing you noticed was the harsh attitude from the mere human you stumbled into. The audacity of some of these humans never failed to amaze you-- oh shit.

You blink several times as you look in front of you, a head of white fluffy hair taking up most of your vision. You still weren’t used to all the interesting colors humans picked to wear, despite the Devildom being filled to the brim with demons who also had some... unique tastes. Hair aside, he was absolutely stunning. You couldn’t find yourself able to look away-- was he also a demon? Did he put you under some kind of spell? Of course, you wouldn’t be surprised to see another demon lurking about, but still--

“Hello? Are ya deaf or somethin’? Ya can’t just go runnin’ into people and then stare at them with these bug eyes. It’s a bit weird, ya know.” Oh, right.

“Uh… sorry?” Not exactly what you planned on saying.

“Yeah…” The man looks at you with a raised eyebrow before clearing his throat and looking away. “Well, I’m in a bit of a rush, so I can’t just stand here all day. Just make sure ya don’t continue to slam into people. Not all of them are as nice as me.” He gives you a wink with that final line and you try to ignore the heat that’s building up in your face. Nice my ass, you can’t help but think. And nearly just as quick as he popped into your life, he vanished. You’re impressed with how fast these humans are; maybe you don’t give them enough credit.

“And where were you?” You were hoping to go unnoticed, but as your luck would have it, of course, Lucifer would catch you the second you walked through the front door. You weren’t a great liar and you both knew this, so you needed to play your cards right. You doubt he’d be happy to know you’ve been running around unsupervised in another realm.

“Uh--”

“You smell like human food.” Beelzebub is quick to point out as he walks into the living room. “Did you bring some human food? Are you going to share?” The red-headed demon is looking at you with a hopeful face and had he not just indirectly ratted you out, you’d probably feel bad for not having any food on you.

“I don’t have any food.” You put it simply and your brother pouts in response. Lucifer, however, is looking at you with a very intense gaze.

“And would you care to explain why you would smell like human food at all?” His arms are crossed over his chest and his foot is tapping against the polished floor. Yeah, you were definitely busted. “And why do you reek of cheap cologne? Were you out with a man?”

“Okay dad, calm down.” You put your hands up in submission. “I was not out with a man, I bumped into one on accident.” More like body slammed into one, but he didn’t need the details. “Maybe he had some human food on him, I don’t know why else I’d smell like it.”

“Must have slammed into him pretty hard to smell that strongly of humans. Unless, of course, the man you crossed paths with was a human.” You swallow thickly under Lucifer’s watchful eye. Damn, you really couldn’t get anything past that man.

“I don’t know why a human would be in the Devildom.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why either.” Lucifer’s looking even more annoyed now. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. You might have just walked into a trap. “Unless of course…”

“Well, look, maybe he was in the human realm and had a bit of a snack. Maybe he chomped on some humans, I don’t know what you want me to tell you. I can’t keep track of every demon I happen to bump into, but next time I run into one I’ll be sure to take some notes and interview them just in case you don’t like how I smell when I come back home.”

“Watch how you talk to me.” Lucifer was getting a little worked up, but to be fair, so were you. You didn’t mean to be so defensive, but when dealing with someone as investigative as Lucifer, could you really be blamed?

“Well, this was fun and all,” you fake a yawn, “but I’m actually quite tired now. Think I’ll go to bed. Catch some shut-eye. Speaking of,” you point an accusing finger at the eldest, “you should too. All this lack of sleep is what makes you so grumpy.”

“Yes,” he deadpans, “I’m sure it’s the lack of sleep that has me like this.”

Okay, so maybe you had a bit of a problem. Not a big problem, but a problem nonetheless. It had been exactly two days since your first and last outing to the human realm. You had a good time overall, but a certain white-haired boy grabbed your attention and refused to let go. The problem? You knew nothing about him. All you knew was that he had an interesting accent and that he maybe lived in a city. At the very least, he had business in the city. If you still haven’t guessed, your problem is that you can’t get this kid out of your head. You didn’t plan on traveling back to the human realm so soon, but well, life happens and here you are. Right back in the same city as two days ago.

It was still as busy as last time, with people shoving their way down the streets, bags in hands and eyes glued to phone screens. It would be impossible to spot him in this crowd, so you’d have to snoop around. Was this really something you were proud of? No, but you were a demon and you let it justify the odd things you indulged in.

You made your way down a sidewalk, hands stuffed in the pockets of your coat once again as you kept a watchful eye out. Your eyes landed on a small restaurant that was tucked away in a corner and the smell caught your attention. Having temporarily forgotten your mission, and instead thinking of picking up some food for Beelzebub, you made your way towards the restaurant. Pushing the door open, you heard a bell above you ring, alerting your presence to the workers.

“Good afternoon.” A cheerful woman says from behind the counter, currently in the middle of taking an order from a customer. You nod your head in response, debating internally whether or not bringing Beelzebub back food would be worth the scolding from Lucifer as yes, you would essentially be ratting yourself out. You could probably get Beelzebub to swear silence in turn for the food though. As you weigh the pros and cons in your head, you hear a familiar voice come from behind you which makes you freeze in place.

“Eh? What are ya doin’ here? Ya followin’ me or somethin’?” You knew the man was probably joking, but uh… yes. Well, you were at the start, technically, but as luck would have it you just happened to bump into him again, so technically you didn’t stalk him and technically you didn’t track him down. So, no, you were not creepy.

“Yes.” You deadpan, and the white-haired man looks puzzled for a minute before erupting into laughter.

“You’re funny.” He gives you a firm pat on the back as he walks by, and that’s when you take in his appearance. He was wearing an apron, so you could assume he was a waiter for the restaurant. Wow, weren’t you the luckiest demon on this planet? Your eyes scan his uniform, looking for a name tag. Your eyebrow quirks in amusement when you read the word ‘Mammon’. Did his parents hate him? Why would they name a child that? What next? Was his middle name Lucifer too?

“Your name is Mammon.” You deadpan once again.

“Yes.” He replies, a bit of a pout on his lips. You assume he gets comments on his name all the time. You wonder why he hasn’t legally changed it; humans have a process for that, don’t they? They love to change everything.

“It’s nice.” You weren’t lying. As a demon, you did appreciate names on humans that derived from your kind. Although definitely taboo for humans, it was always fascinating to you to see that some humans actually did walk around with demon names.

“Eh? Really?” He’s looking at you with wide eyes again before a dopey smile forms on his lips as the two of you stand chatting by the entrance. “I don’t get that a lot. Are you from around here? I haven’t seen ya much. Have ya been here before?”

“I’m new to the area.” It wasn’t really a lie. “So I’ve just been exploring the area, trying to take everything in. I thought this place smelled good so I came here. I wasn’t expecting to see you.” But it did make things easier. Now that you had a name to a face, maybe you’d be able to get him out of your head.

“So that’s the excuse you’re goin’ with, yeah?” There’s a playful grin on his lips before he leads you to a table. “Just sit tight, I’ll be the one takin’ your order, so glance over the menu, okay?” You can only nod in response as he’s gone almost immediately after. Well, Lucifer would definitely notice your scent now. Nothing about you smelled like a demon; in fact, you’re sure you smelled more human at this point than anything else.

Your eyes follow Mammon’s figure as he disappears into the back, doing who knows what. Cheap cologne, you remember Lucifer bringing that up the other day. You didn’t think Mammon smelled like cheap cologne, he actually smelled quite nice.

You decided to bring your attention to the menu placed on the table in front of you as you found yourself getting too distracted and you didn’t want to risk looking like an actual stalker (although that’s already up in the air) when Mammon comes back. Your eyebrow quirked as you looked over the food. So it’s a café type of place? How cute, you can’t help but think to yourself. You weren’t too hungry, but the longer you stayed there the longer you’d be able to see Mammon. You could always bring it back to Beelzebub.

“Decide on anythin’ yet?” He asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Why didn’t you sense his arrival? You give him a confused look when he places a mug down in front of you. “What? Ya look like a hot chocolate kind of… person?” You stifle a laugh at his odd attempt to address you.

“I do like hot chocolate.” Was it hot in here or was it just you? You cup your hands around the mug and try not to look up at the white-haired man in fear of staring at him like a creep.

“Of course. My intuition is never wrong.” He gives you a wink, which you happen to look up just in time to catch, and low and behold your face is beet red. Just your luck. “So? What do ya want?”

“What do I want?” You choke out and Mammon looks at you with another raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, what do ya want to eat?” Duh.

“U-Uh, yeah, this!” In a panic, you quickly point at a random spot on the menu, to which Mammon bends down to examine it.

“So you’re big on sweets, yeah? I like chocolate too, but that’s a lot even for me.” He has a toothy grin on his face and you quickly look down to see just what exactly it was that you picked out. A chocolate cake drizzled in chocolate sauce served with a side of chocolate wafers. Yeah, that wouldn’t have been your pick if you had actually paid attention, but it is what it is.

“It’s because I’m so sweet.” Yeah, you hated that the second it left your mouth. Mammon, however, seemed to like it as he blurted out a laugh.

“I can’t say that I disagree.” He looks thoughtful for a moment before shifting on his feet. “I’m about to go on break, would ya mind if I sat with ya?” And cue your cheeks heating up again. You just hoped it wasn’t too noticeable.

“Sure, yeah, I don’t mind.” You’re scratching at the back of your neck shyly as you look around the mostly empty restaurant.

“Cool!” Your face is buried in your hands once the man leaves, a shaky sigh leaving you. Did he want to sit with you? You didn’t know if you should consider yourself lucky or unlucky at this point.

At least ten minutes went by before Mammon joined you at your table, the man pulling out his phone as he sat in the empty seat. He was clearly excited to be on break, the man rambling about his day and all the annoying customers he had to deal with. You listen silently as you pick at your cake. You had forced yourself to eat half of it before he joined you, not wanting to look like you didn’t like it and have the white-haired boy ask you questions regarding it. You were still unsure how to feel about his company, but a part of you felt lighter than before.

“What time do you work until?” You found yourself asking and you shyly glanced over at the other.

“I close.” There’s a pout on his lips and you find yourself smiling. “Kinda sucks, but the pay is alright. Better than nothin’ anyway, especially with the holidays comin’ up and all.” He’s playing with his fingers as he glances down at his phone. Was he waiting for something? Maybe he had a partner and he was waiting for them to text him back. For some reason, that thought makes you frown. “Ah, actually,” there’s a sheepish smile on his lips and his cheeks are turning a pretty shade of red, “I was wonderin’ if I could actually get your number.” He’s scratching at the back of his neck and you feel your heart skip several beats in response. He wanted your number? Your number? Him? Your expression must have startled him as the man across from you started stammering out an excuse. “Ah, but, actually-- if it’s too invasive, I didn’t mean anythin’ like that-- I swear, oh god.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” You were beyond grateful, but there was only one teenie tiny issue. “I don’t have a phone.” Well, a human phone that is. You had a perfectly working D.D.D, but nothing that could interact with the human realm. Mammon looks slightly dejected and you know that he doesn’t buy your excuse. You weren’t surprised, a lot of humans seemed to have phones in this era. Living without one seemed to be impossible for them. And, as if the universe wanted to punish you for flirting with a human that was so beneath you, your D.D.D immediately goes off.

Your face pales as you just stare in horror at Mammon. He looks slightly annoyed, though you can tell he’s trying to play it off. That had to sting. “Look, it’s cool. Ya don’t owe me any explanations if ya don’t want me havin’ your number.” He checks his phone once again, the silence in the air suffocating you. “Ya should probably answer that, don’t ya think?” Yeah, he was definitely annoyed with you. You clumsily grab your D.D.D from your pocket, nearly dropping it in the process. You swear under your breath when seeing it’s Lucifer. You wonder what the odds were of him finding out you were in the human realm.

“I uh, I have to go.”

“Important call?” There was bitterness just barely contained in his voice. How did things go so wrong so fast?

“I’m sorry.” You say lamely before leaving all the human currency you had on the table and darted out the doors of the restaurant. God, you’d never be able to show your face in the human realm again. That embarrassment would last for centuries, you were sure of it.

[lovee-infected]

For the anon talking about how they hate how over exaggerated a character is. I am not trying to start hate or anything, but if you don't like the way how someone portrays the character, just stop reading it. Some people don't delve deep, they just want to write fanfics for fun they're not going to make sure it's 100% the characters VERY complex personalities. Or the way how they view a character is different from their beliefs. I've gotten this message before and I am TIRED of it

I think it's a good time to talk about this because I've been thinking about bringing the topic up for a while. To begin with, let's clear something between the two anons because I think it's a misunderstanding:

Note: Please read this, this is important.

Anon A is saying that they're sometimes bothered by how some fanfics and Aus have a different way of picturing character X, in other words, they don't really enjoy it when a character is bring mischaracterized

Anon B (this anon) is saying that if you're bothered by a fic because you don't like how they're characterizing an specific character, then you don't have to read it.

Let me say that both of these anons are right, yet to think that their ideas are the opposites of each other, is totally wrong. In other words they both have a point, but I guess their points needs a stronger a better way of being explained in order to avoid any further dramas and misunderstandings.

Why am I doing this? Because I've seen -enough- of it. After the twst character analyses, aruges toward the mischaracterizations in this fandom became a thing, it's been causing some issues and arguments between the fans and it's mainly because of how sides fails to explain their points clearly.

Though I didn't really receive any rude asks/comments regarding myself the matter I can still how some fans feel attacked, offended or called out by character analysis posts or have the NERVE to attack or offend others with their own perspective on characters and try to force others into accepting them.

Enough with drama, I'm sick of it. I'm going to explain this as clearly as I can, hopeful that this would at least lessen the chance of having to go through another drama regarding the mischaracterization issue.

1) The concept of FANfiction

First off, the fanfiction itself; what is a fanfiction? What type of writing is considered to be a fanfic? What is it even used for? These are the questions we all need to answer before getting to know the world of fanfic.

Just as its name explains, it's fan + fiction. It's the result of the fan's creativity and imagination taking place in a fictional plot, something that hasn't happened with the original characters and he original story. The fans' imagination is often far beyond the plot which the original story/series/book offers, yet this isn't going to hold fans back from imagining it. Fanfiction is the way of giving yourself (or others) the specific and plot with the original and canon version isn't going to give you, in other words it's a way of getting what you wish to see through a story but this time, it's you who'd decide what will happen.

You are the one who decides how characters will be, you are the one who decides how and where this story happens and you are the one to choose how this story must come to an end. It's all about your own imagination and creativity, which enables you to have power over everything about your own story and fanfiction, everything (In expection gor than legal issues including claiming the original character as yours). You have the power, and you choose how it should be.

2) Fanfiction and mischaracterization

This was mainly the most brought up issue in the recent Twst drama, mischaracterization through writings. Many were saying how they find this annoying and nerve-wrecking, but no one really talked about how mischaracterization comes to life.

Let me tell you, as long your writing is a fanfic, there is a 70% chance of mischaracterizing the plot or the characters and there's nothing wrong with it, that's just how fanfiction works! It isn't supposed to be canon, it is fanon and only fanon. Everything that happens is fictional and fanon based, in other words, it's the fan who decides what should happen in a fanfiction and how it's supposed to be!

One of the Fanfiction's best purposes is giving the fandom a chance to mischaracterize! To write the characters the way they wish them to be and not necessarily the way they truly are. Fanfiction allows us to imagine and create something that isn't true, so let me clear my point here: It's totally okay to change the characters' personalities in your fanfics! As the writer, you have the right to do so, and since writing a fanfic must be for your own pleasure in the first place, no one can stop you from imagining whatever you want! No one can jump out and say stuff like "YOU CAN'T MISCHARACERTIZE A CHARACTER IN A FANFICTION" because that'd be super lame. It's your own fanfiction, your story, your creation and you're free to mischaracterize if that's how you like it to be! And if anyone doesn't like that, remember that they don't have to read that.

3)What is the problem?

Look, we've been going through some drama because of the recent character analyses of twst fandom, and I'd like to explain why. First off, note that I think both sides of the argument have been wrong and I'm going to talk about both of them.

Let me begin with a small example: It's been argued that based to what we've seen from Leona's personality so far, he doesn't seem to be the type to love healthily or even easily fall for anyone. Some of the fans seemed to be offended by the statement and said that "They still want their Leona fluff no matter what everyone else says" okay okay, this is the problem I was talking about: Saying that canon Leona doesn't seem to be much of a fluffy lion or a sweet lover isn't equal to forbidding the fans from writing fluffs for him or picturing him as a adorable and gentle lover! No one has the right to hold fans back from appreciating and enjoying what they like! But it's important to know what exactly is happening.

I'll talk about some crucial points you need to know about character analyses and how it's different from a fanfic in part (4), but before that, let me continue to give some examples of the recent argues and how each of the sides were wrong.

A) You enjoy reading fluffy Malleus content but character analyses have been saying that he isn't as soft and cute as you'd expected him to be. Does this mean that you can no longer ask for wholesome Malleus content or enjoy reading them? -> Of course not! You're still free to read/imagine/write whatever you like with Malleus! No one has the right to tell you what to do, and character analyses aren't meant to be a way to hold you back from enjoying what you like! If you're enjoying something, go for it! In this fanon world no one can accuse you for not following the canon interpretations!

B) You've spent a rather long time getting to know Ace and his canon personality, and you really like the way he is! But by reading fanfics/ fandom's interpretations on him you can't help but to feel like they aren't giving his personality the justice he deserves, and aren't seeing the great and amazing character he truly is. Is it okay to feel upset about this? -> Just as I said, it's totally fine to have your personal interpretations of a character no matter how different the rest of the interpretations are! But the real question is: what should you do when you think fandom isn't doing a character justice? This would be answered in part D!

C) You are enjoying your personal ideas and headcanons with Idia and many are saying that your way of picturing him is so adorable! Does this necessarily mean that the canon Idia as well is like you describe him? -> Absolutely not! No matter how adorable an Au/headcanon is, everyone's free to enjoy it but you should remember that canon ≠ fanon. You are totally free to imagine whatever you'd like! But keep this in mind that you shouldn't insist on your ideas being necessarily canon!

D) You feel like many are mischaracterizing your favorite character and you don't like it, what should you do? -> Well to begin with, remember that other fans have the right to characterize a character just as much as you do! You can't stop them from doing what they like or expect them to change the way they are because of how different the canon interpretation of a character might be. But you as well have a great chance to inspire the fandom by your own ideas! You can try to discuss how different the canon personality of your favorite character is and even try to turn that into a character analysis! This way you'd not only avoid causing any drama because of disagreeing with someone's way of picturing your favorite character, but you will also have a chance to present your personal ideas and characterizations to the fandom in a friendly and polite way!

E) You don't like how an author is characterizing some of the boys, what should you do? -> Easy solution, don't read it. Let me tell you, I have gone through this a lot and do you know what I do whenever I read/see something that doesn't match my tastes and expectations? I keep scrolling! That's all, I don't have to like it, but I don't have to read it either! 😀

F) You're an author and a writing request is asking you to write for a character in a way you just can't or don't want to write because that goes totally against your idealistics and ideas on a character, for example: You just can't write something really wholesome and fluffy for Leona because you can't imagine him being like that, what should you do? -> It's obvious, then don't write it! You have the right to choose what you'd like to write and how you like to picture a character no matter what others think. If you want to picture Leona as an emotional and soft boy, it's totally okay! If you want to picture him as a cold-hearted and mean prince, again it's totally alright! Remember, just like fans you have the right to picture and characterize the characters the way you want to, and no one can tell you otherwise!

G) You've read a character analysis and you realize that you've been mischaracterizing Floyd for a while, should you feel bad or sorry about it? -> Of course not!! Even if you were mischaracterizing him, keep this mind that there's nothing wrong with picturing Floyd as the way you want him to be! As long as you don't claim your headcanons to be canon and share stuff like "Canon from is definitely like this" or "Floyd would do that, canon! ^-^" it's totally alright to imagine him the way you like!

H) You saw someone saying something about Malleus that didn't match the canon interpretations of him. You quickly replied to then and corrected them about their wrong point of view and tell them how the real Malleus is, which kinda led to and argument between you and the person, did you do the right thing? -> Absolutely not! Attacking others out of nowhere and without any context isn't the right way of introducing the canon characterizations to the fandom! Even if you were right, keep this in mind that the other person has the right to picture Malleus or any other character the way they want them to be so if you want to correct them or try to get to know the canon character interpretations, you should do that from the logical and polite way.

I) Someone wrote a character analysis for Idia and said how they find it so annoying when people who refer to Idia as "Baby" and "uwu beanie". You often refer to Idia as baby or cutie yourself and the context of that analysis/general post some how got to you. You feel lowkey attacked and offended, did the original poster say the right thing? -> No, matter what the context is or how accurate and well-written that analysis was, directly calling people who have a certain way of picturing a character "Annoying" is rude no matter how you think of it. Even if the original poster were right about Idia not being UWU, their way of wording their sentence wasn't really pleasant; keep this, in mind that everyone in the fandom is free to picture Idia as they like and it doesn't even matter if you don't like it or not! If you're going to write an analysis/essay regarding a character's personality, remember that you should prove your point and disagree with opposite opinions through logical reasoning and explaining your point, NOT by offending and attacking other ideas by savage contexts like "You have to stop saying that Idia is like this", "I hate it when people say Idia is like this", " It's so annoying to see people saying Idia is like this... "

4) What's with the character analyses then?

There's a difference from the canon and fanon interpretations of a character, this is a truth which cannot be denied. But it's important to remember that just because a canon interpretation of a character exists, you can no longer enjoy the fanon interpretations!

Even I, for example, enjoy picturing someone like Malleus as an purely evil being like Maleficent herself because I enjoy seeing him as a perfect figure for "Mister of all Evil", but in my Malleus analysis post I explained how we should NOT think that Malleus is nothing but pure evil or a heartless monster! See, this is the difference I've been talking about. I'm pretty well-familiar with the canon Malleus, but I'm also enjoying the my own fanon Malleus and I know that the Evil Malleus I admire is a fanon one, not the canon one!

The thing is, character analyses aren't meant to be a way to hold anyone back from enjoying their fanon interpretations or imagining what they like, they aren't call out posts either. They are simply a way of getting to know the characters as if you're getting to know one of your irl friends. You come to think of them, see how deep their personalities are and get to learn more about them!

It's true that reading a character analysis might make you realize that you've been somehow mischaracterizing a character but this, isn't anything to be sorry or frustrated about! Character analyses are written to learn us more about our favorite characters, or as I like to name it, they want to show us that they're a lot more that we may imagine them to be!

Now, you may wonder how can we write a good character analysis without getting out of the line, offending anyone or giving out any cheap information?

I, personally, am pretty strict when asked to do a character analysis. Doesn't matter if I like the character or not, I'd try to judge them nonetheless. You HAVE to talk about both good features and bad features, and you must strictly avoid your analysis from getting personal; you have to make sure that your personal thoughts, feelings and emotions regarding a character aren't effecting your analysis. You shouldn't be writing it in a way to show off with your analytical ideas either.

Some people think coming off as rude would make them sound valid and acceptable, or they might just be used to being a little offensive in general, but as I explained in part 3-I, I won't recommend using any harsh or mean languages at all. Let me note that your way of wording your ideas is crazily important and if you're not careful enough with what you say and how you describe your ideas, your post would be not only be not much helpful as an analysis but also a cause of more drama and arguments. Also, keep this in mind that even the best of character analyses can't totally catch the characters' personalities correctly because we do not own them! Twisted wonderland's characters are a property of aniplex and neither me not anyone else in this fandom has the right to claim what a character is 100% like unless Disney officially releases those details!

Writing character analyses can be hard, from finding enough of hints to defend your point to choosing the right Grammer and way of speaking to avoid any further misunderstandings. But remember, those who write character analyses have no right to attack anyone because of them (They can oppose to different opinions of course, opposing ≠ attacking ), but keep this in mind that readers have no right to attack then because of their analysis either! See, that's a two-sided relationship. Both of the, sides have to learn to respect, both of the sides should, know, their boundaries and both of the sides have to be respectful!

Warning: When I say you're free to do or imagine whatever you wish to do, know that posting and sharing writings too has its own rules. Make sure to put the proper warnings, and avoid using any taboo or clearly impolite and sometimes, illegal concepts such as incest, pedophilia, etc.

I actually had a lot more I wanted to say regarding the matter but I'm keeping it short, because I know that writing too much would make this boring and pretty hard to read. Hope that it's clear enough and avoid the possible future misunderstandings and arguments regarding the matter. Please, this isn't even about twst, it's about learning to respect each other it's about real life. Having people read THIS is a lot more important than having them read my character analyses or writings.

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Hello! I hope you're doing great :)

I was willing to ask you, since our bois are so troubled, and living post-war is a nightmare, how the companions would react if they found out Sole was a psychologist? Thank you for taking your time ❤️

Cait:

•This surprisingly might make it harder for her to warm up and be comfortable around you, believe it or not.

•Basically from what she understands is that you take pride in invading people's minds, making it your business to know their innermost personal traits. Although this isn't truly the case, she treats it as so.

Curie:

•It may not be biology, but shit, she's beyond excited to be able to speak with someone in a somewhat similar field as her. She..she may not fully grasp some of the concepts you bring up, but she'll happily learn along the way so long as it means the two of you can keep "feeding" each other information.

•Might propose a collaboration in delving into ethical social experiments.

Danse:

•It's somewhat of an odd situation with Danse.

•He's the type of person that enjoys learning new things whenever they surface, so in that respect he's enthusiastic about conversing your former line of work.

•However he also opens up to you more than he would others because he feels like you may be able to grant some solution to his turmoil (having been canonically diagnosed with PTSD)..but he never fully approaches the subject.

Deacon:

•Greatly respects your study and may even ask you a few things here and there. Takes notes religiously as well.

•The majority of his questions will of course be work related, seeing if you can help him find different ways to manipulate the ways people perceive situations and such.

Gage:

•Ignorantly regards you as a therapist and becomes tight-lipped. Well, as much as Gage can.

•You start spewing about the obvious problems he has, he'll just punch you on the shoulder and tell you to shut it.

Hancock:

•Kind of in the same boat as Cait, only he is equally as intrigued as he is cautious.

Macready:

•To Mac, you're quite the oddity. He can't begin to indeed stand why you'd even consider studying something..like that..but he thinks it's kind of interesting.

•Not something for him..but he knows having you around can prove to be useful.

Maxson:

•Considers you a valuable asset to the Brotherhood, quickly granting you an appropriate rank equal to Captain Cade.

• Unfortunately is probably going to assign scribes to shadow you and learn.

•If you manage to become close to him, Arthur may also allow you to evaluate him. Nothing you say will probably shock him, but maybe you'll be able to convince him to stop stressing out too much. Eh..

Nick:

•Also sees the value of your abilities and knowledge. Probably even becomes friends faster because of your former occupation, seeing as detectives and psychologists go together like peanut butter and jelly.

Piper:

•Let's just face it..she's probably going to ask if you know how to tell if someone's lying and crazy shit like that.

Preston:

•Indifferent. You're his general .

X6-88:

•Rather enjoys talking about your field with you. Sure, he may take an interest in psychology in less than ethical ways- but for his line of work, understanding how a mind works is crucial to his success.

•Don't try to psychoanalyze him though, he'll see it and won't appreciate it very much.

[whentheynameyoujoy]

So the ATLA Movie Is... Good, Actually?

Just kidding, of course it’s not, it’s so bad it sucked the paint off my walls. But after ten years of people pointing out its glaring flaws, why would anyone bother talking about this garbage heap if not to go the other direction? So here’s a very brief and very superficial list of things the movie does get kinda... not atrociously wrong.

And they won’t be fake hipster pokes, like “It’s fun to laugh at”, “The Rifftrax for this is OK”, or “Kudos to the actress for managing to say we believe in our beliefs as much as they believe in theirs with a straight face”.

(though now that I mentioned it, it is fun to laugh at, the Rifftrax for this is OK, and massive props indeed.)

Rasta Iroh

Yes, I know it’s not exactly the aesthetic of the real Iroh or that it makes no cultural sense for him to sport this do when no one else in the racebended Indian “OMFG what were you thinking Shyamalan” Nation does but goddamn, long-haired dudes are my one mortal weakness and I will ogle the hell out of him.

Jesus is that a man bun I see that’s it mum I’ve been deaded

Yue’s hair

No.

Now we’re talking. Yue’s hair turned white when the Moon spirit gave her life, so it makes sense for it to go black again when she sacrifices herself to revive the koi fish. It’s a neat detail I find myself expecting whenever I rewatch the scene in the show. Yes, I realize it’d be a pointless hassle to animate since she, unlike in the movie, immediately goes on to become the Moon herself but still. I like.

The Blue Spirit’s mop

Zuko, hun, what’s with the dance-off?

First of all, I want to imagine that Zuko the Theatre Nerd was about to leave his ship with just the mask like in the show but then stuck his head into the cleaning cupboard and went, “Yeah, more coverage might be good, even though it do seem mighty fried to shit”.

Which makes me giggle. I like to giggle.

And secondly, the hair’s movement is what makes the static mess of the Blue Spirit’s solo fight scene appear at least bit more dynamic because God knows the cinematography isn’t doing it.

Any particular reason why it’s at the edge of the action, shot all boring-like?

Now, I get why circular shots would be reserved for Aang while he’s in the practice area and then used once the two join forces. What I don’t get is why Aang’s part of the action scene has a defined visual style while Zuko’s delegated to a few stationary wide shots from afar as though he’s a tertiary goon, meaning that when the time comes to combine the respective pieces of cinema language and visually convey collaboration, there’s not really much to combine.

But as long as Zuko is stuck in this static mess, it’s that awesome disaster on his head flopping about that draws the eye, helping me understand that something even is going on over there.

It also prevents me from paying much attention to how the extras are mostly just staying put and a lot of the hits don’t land, so that’s good.

The music slaps

James Newton Howard is too good for this.

Pls ignore that the word “gods” is used in the ATLA universe

I can’t be the only one who constantly uses this piece to daydream about writing specific fanfic scenes instead of, you know, actually sitting down and writing them. It’s just so good at communicating a sense of sorrow while speaking of rebirth that I find myself getting misty-eyed whenever I listen to it. Unfailingly, the soundtrack as a whole manages to break through the mile-thick crust of horrible acting, confusing writing, and uninspired cinematography and make me feel things. And considering how everything on screen is working against it, that’s no small feat.

Imagine what a powerful experience it would be if the score was used in service of an actual movie.

Dev Patel

No wonder since he’s the only one in the film occupying that crucial intersection between “is a good actor” and “was given something to work with”. It also doesn’t hurt that he breaks with the trend of actors starring in martial arts flicks despite never having done any martial art.

And all EIP-jokes about “stiff and humorless” aside, he’s a pretty decent Zuko considering how abridged this version of the character is. A while ago, I remember hearing a reviewer say that with his comedic chops, Patel should have been cast as Sokka. And on one hand, yes, god, absolutely, I need to see that asap. But on the other? He captures all layers of Book 1!Zuko, the desperate obsession, rage, and self-loathing, and at the same time gives you a peek at the soft momma’s boy dork that’s buried underneath. For Christ sakes, he exudes intensity and ambivalence even when acting against an emotionless hunk of wood that’s giving him nothing in return.

Oh, and I guess there’s a tree in the frame.

Ba dum tss

What can I say, the guy’s good.

Showing vs telling

OK, so this movie is all tell and no show, except for one single moment. And it’s the exact moment where the original goes in the other direction in terms of how information is conveyed.

See, I never liked this. The revelation is preceded by Iroh giving advice to Zuko who scolds him for nagging. Iroh then apologizes, moves in to say the line above, and is interrupted by Zuko who seems rather uncomfortable with Iroh laying his feelings out like this. And once they’re out, Zuko verbally confirms that he knew already and Iroh didn’t need to bother.

All this extraneous information and pussyfooting ends up weakening what should be a profound scene that reveals to us, the viewers, how deep the relationship between these two in fact runs.

Compare to the movie where Dadroh acts like a parent by fussing and worrying, with Sonion needing a single look to tell him and us that he understands what it’s all really about.

It’s genuinely efficient and just good.

No Cataang

Fine, a bit mean-girl bitchy from me since I only start minding the ship in Book 3. And probably unintentional on the part of the creators since there are moments where I think they’re trying to set the romance up? There’s a, well, an attempt to recreate the famous introductory shot of fateful meaningful destiny of meaningness, there’s some slight note of saving each other’s bacon going on, I’m pretty sure they’re the only ones in the film who smile, and oh, right, Katara’s shoved into her post-canon useless role where she doesn’t ever do anything, and is all about Aang right from the get go.

Yes, I will blame the “executive producers” because a) I’m incredibly petty, and b) it’s perfectly in line with their vision of the character so why the hell not.

Hilariously, none of it reads on screen because the actors are just... yeah. These poor kids are struggling so much with delivering their own lines and portraying their own characters they don’t seem to have any strength left to create something between them. To be fair, the bare-bones shot-reverse shot style of their scenes doesn’t exactly lend itself to the idea they occupy the same universe, let alone are friends or each other’s crushes.

And I enjoy this immensely because it allows me to forget the depressing horror show Katara’s life turns into post ATLA.

Yes Zutara

I need to delve into this because it’s fucking hilarious. So in a movie which fails to establish the original’s central romance so spectacularly that if Aang got lost in a crowd I don’t believe Katara would notice, SomEOnE thought it’d be a good idea to add an utterly unnecessary non-canon moment where Zuko for some reason feels the need to pause his character-defining hunt for the Avatar which otherwise has him ignore everything and snap at everyone, and explain his central conflict to an unconscious peasant he doesn’t know, complete with gently pushing the hair from the pretty girl’s the soulmate’s the Water Tribe Ambassador’s the Fire Lady’s the love of his life’s her face away, AFTER his uncle nagged him twice to find a girl and settle down.

I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page and this is what we really saw.

Celibate Avatars

I have no idea why the decision was made, if TPTB thought expecting viewers to understand the story through the lens of Buddhism would be too much, or if the “executive producers” already worked their retconny magic. What I do know, however, is that there’s a big shift in worldbuilding and Aang’s struggle with his role as the Avatar stops being a personal conflict defined by a) his grief for Air Nomads, b) his notion of being robbed of the loved ones in his life, and c) the selfish attachment to Katara he confuses with true love. Instead, what he has a difficulty to accept is apparently a general notion of who Avatars are supposed to be, i.e. a fantasy version of Catholic monks, no family and worldly relations, period.

I guess either someone understood the original’s portrayal of de/attachment as “hermit no freaky”, or thought the audience would so why not go there outright.

Now, do I like this on its own? No, God no, it makes the world infinitely poorer and changes the story from an exploration of ideas which aren’t all that ingrained in the West, to a cliché tropester about a Catholic priest going Protestant so that he could be with a girl.

At least I assume that’s where they were going to take this eventually.

I mean, I think the direction was “look conflicted, this isn’t the final stage of your journey”?

But consider this—the show went there, it built on the concepts of Eastern philosophy and touched upon the ideas of spiritual awakening, only to swerve in the end and strongly imply they’re bullshit and Aang should have never wasted his time with them.

So honestly, I much prefer scanty worldbuilding to an insulting retcon by a damn rock.

Multiracial Air Nomads

Probably the most substantial “no hint of irony” point on this list and a genuinely good addition to the universe’s worldbuilding.

See, the notion of the elemental nations being perfectly separate and never mingling before Sozin has always been sketchy but it’s especially ridiculous in the case of airbenders. It never made sense to me for all airbenders to be Air Nomads and for all Air Nomads to be monks and for all monks to be chilling at the temples all the time to facilitate a quick everyone-dies genocide should an imperialistic warlord ever decide to commit one.

Because committing everyone to a single way of life at a handful of places kinda goes against the central philosophy behind airbending. Like the freedom and nomadism part.

Instead, there should be more variety to the airbending culture, with some staying at the temples as monks, hermits, and teachers while others live as nomads, travelling the world and creating more airbenders, with the resulting children in turn being influenced by the non-airbending cultures they grew up in.

And thus, not only should airbenders not be modeled after a single culture to create a one-size-fits-all lifestyle, but they should have the most diverse and dynamic culture out of the four nations.

And it’d be precisely this diversity which would pave way for an eventual reveal that some of them survived, that their complete extermination is impossible.

Because they’re everywhere.

You know.

Like air.

[bloody-bee-tea]

BeeTober 2020 Day 29

Worm - Carving

Day 29 of BeeTober brings a Jiang Cheng who has quite the ability and is maybe not using it to do fun stuff. Instead he makes Nie Mingjue worry enough that he intervenes. 

Nie Mingjue just got comfortable on the couch—wrapped up in his blanket and his favourite movie queued up—when Nie Huaisang barges into his apartment.

“Da-ge,” he immediately yells and Nie Mingjue represses a sigh.

He told his brother to come by more often, encouraged him to use his key for it’s intended purpose, and so Nie Mingjue can’t even be mad at Nie Huaisang.

“Here,” he dutifully calls back and when Nie Huaisang’s eyes light up when he sees him on the couch, he knows that he won’t get any quiet and peace this evening.

“Move over,” Nie Huaisang immediately demands as he starts to worm his way under the blanket before he comes to a stop, resting entirely on Nie Mingjue.

“What do you want?” Nie Mingjue gruffly asks, but Nie Huaisang only sends him his most winning smile.

So something big then.

“Who says I have to want something?” Nie Huaisang tries, but going by how his eyes sparkle, he knows that Nie Mingjue already saw through him.

Nie Mingjue wriggles around just enough to get his hand free so that he can flick Nie Huaisang into the forehead.

“Try again,” he says and Nie Huaisang goes serious in an instant.

It’s not only big, but also important, apparently.

“I’m worried about Jiang Cheng,” Nie Huaisang admits and Nie Mingjue raises an eyebrow at him.

“Shouldn’t you be going with this to Wei Wuxian or Jiang Yanli? You know, his actual siblings?” Nie Mingjue wants to know but he can’t deny that a tiny spark of worry has already lodged inside his chest.

If Nie Huaisang is worried enough to bring it up to Nie Mingjue, then it must be serious.

“I don’t think Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are speaking at the moment,” Nie Huaisang admits. “And Yanli is taking care of an infant. I doubt Jiang Cheng would be honest with her.”

“Okay?” Nie Mingjue says because he still isn’t sure why Nie Huaisang brings this to him of all people.

“I tried talking to Jiang Cheng, but he’s very secretive and it doesn’t seem like he wants to tell me.”

“What makes you think that he might tell me?” Nie Mingjue shoots back and Nie Huaisang gives him a slight smile.

“You’re da-ge,” Nie Huaisang and shrugs as best as he can with his chin still propped up on Nie Mingjue’s chest. “You have authority. If you ask him, he will answer out of pure reflex.”

“I wish that would still work on you,” Nie Mingjue says with a sigh and then scrubs a hand over his face.

“Plus, I have seen you look,” Nie Huaisang says and Nie Mingjue goes hot all over. “You have a special interest in keeping Jiang Cheng happy and healthy.”

“Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue starts, suddenly unsure, because Jiang Cheng is Nie Huaisang’s best friend and it’s mostly the reason he never did anything yet.

“I don’t mind,” Nie Huaisang says immediately. “If I had to approve of a boyfriend for him, who would I rather choose than you? And besides, don’t pretend that it’s a hard no that he’s my childhood friend. If it was you wouldn’t even have been looking.”

Nie Mingjue sighs, because Nie Huaisang is right of course, and he knows it too.

“What’s going on with Jiang Cheng?” he asks instead of delving deeper into the topic of his feelings for Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang sighs.

“I’m not sure. I’d say he’s overworking himself, but Wei Wuxian promises me that he gets at least seven hours a night. But he disappears into the library at all times, and when he comes out he looks like he has aged weeks,” Nie Huaisang mutters. “He looks so bad, like he could keel over at any time. If he should show up at Wei Wuxian’s Halloween party on the weekend, he wouldn’t even need any make up. He already looks like a zombie.”

“If he should show up? Isn’t it in his own apartment?” Nie Mingjue asks, but he can’t deny that he’s already worried.

It doesn’t sound like Jiang Cheng is taking a lot of care of himself at the moment.

“Yeah, but he might just vanish into the library instead,” Nie Huaisang sighs. “And I don’t know what to do. Every time I ask, Jiang Cheng promises me he sleeps enough, but something seems wrong.”

“You think he’s in trouble?” Nie Mingjue wants to know but Nie Huaisang starts to shake his head before he shrugs.

“I’m not sure. I doubt anyone could pressure him into something, or blackmail him or whatever, but something must be going on.”

Nie Huaisang sends him his best puppy look and Nie Mingjue groans before he even opens his mouth.

“Won’t you check it out? Won’t you make sure that Jiang Cheng is alright?” he begs him and even without the big eyes and wobbly voice Nie Mingjue would have agreed.

If Jiang Cheng is not doing well at the moment, of course he’s going to help.

~*~*~

Nie Mingjue decides not to tackle the issue immediately. He hasn’t seen Jiang Cheng in person for a while now and to simply march up to him and ask what is wrong is not going to bring the best results, Nie Mingjue simply knows that.

Jiang Cheng will be prickly and on the defensive and then Nie Mingjue will not get an answer.

So instead, he involves himself a little bit more in Nie Huaisang’s life, and therefore in Wei Wuxian’s and Jiang Cheng’s life.

He sees them on campus and after classes and he invites them over for dinner again and goes out drinking with Wei Wuxian when he asks.

And through all of that he keeps a close eye on Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue has to admit that Nie Huaisang might be right.

Jiang Cheng looks like shit and Nie Mingjue fears that a slight breeze could knock him over. Nie Mingjue is sure that he lost some weight, he’s pale and whenever his gaze looses focus, it seems almost like someone is carving out his very will to live.

It’s very worrisome.

But prodding Wei Wuxian had brought no result because he doesn’t seem to know either and he stopped asking, too, because the last time he did Jiang Cheng almost bit his head off and then didn’t speak to him for almost too weeks.

Wei Wuxian is not risking that again, and Nie Mingjue gets it.

But he also sees that Jiang Cheng desperately needs some help with whatever it is that he’s dealing with and he itches to bundle Jiang Cheng up and make him eat and sleep under supervision so that he can be sure that he actually does both of these things.

Instead of just ambushing Jiang Cheng with questions, though, Nie Mingjue invites him over for dinner.

Nie Mingjue hasn’t spend a lot of time in Jiang Cheng’s and Wei Wuxian’s dorm, and he doubts that asking Jiang Cheng a question he wants a truthful answer to in public is going to bring him the results he wants, so he figures this is his only option.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t seem suspicious though, and Nie Mingjue realizes that he missed spending time like this with Jiang Cheng.

He used to come over for dinner a lot more often—before Nie Mingjue realized his attraction to him and distanced himself because of it—and Nie Mingjue vows to invite him over more regularly.

They are friends first, after all, and Jiang Cheng shouldn’t have to suffer more than he clearly already does, for whatever reason.

Nie Mingjue waits until they are done with their food, before he puts his glass down and very seriously asks “Jiang Cheng, what’s wrong?”

He expected a lot of reactions; screaming, was one of them, as well as Jiang Cheng storming out. What Nie Mingjue did not expect was for Jiang Cheng do break down into tears immediately.

“Shit,” Nie Mingjue mutters, as he rounds the table and pulls Jiang Cheng into his arms.

He’s shaking, and Nie Mingjue suspects that he’s crying more out of pure exhaustion than anything else, and so he simply holds him while Jiang Cheng gets it all out of his system.

It takes him a long time to stop crying, but not long enough for Nie Mingjue to suggest they move to the couch.

In the end, Jiang Cheng pushes away from him and drags his sleeve over his face as if he wants to make Nie Mingjue believe that nothing at all is wrong.

Well, that’s not going to happen.

“Now tell me what’s wrong,” Nie Mingjue says as he cups Jiang Cheng’s face in his hand and tilts it slightly up, so that he has to look at Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue has found that Nie Huaisang is unable to lie to him when he holds direct eye contact, and he hopes the same goes for Jiang Cheng.

“It’s not—gods, I’m so—it’s nothing,” Jiang Cheng tries, his voice still choked up and Nie Mingjue rolls his eyes at him.

“And now the truth, please,” he gently chides Jiang Cheng who deflates at his tone.

“I don’t know how to explain,” Jiang Cheng whispers and Nie Mingjue figures that’s a start.

“Come over here,” Nie Mingjue says and now he drags him over to the couch, because if it’s a hard conversation they are about to have then it will be better if they are sitting comfortably. “Start with something that’s easy,” Nie Mingjue suggests when the silence drags on between them even after Jiang Cheng swaddled himself with a blanket and he sighs.

“I get seven hours of sleep a night,” he starts with and Nie Mingjue finds that hard to believe with how exhausted Jiang Cheng looks. “It’s just that my days are a lot longer than twenty-four hours,” Jiang Cheng goes on and Nie Mingjue is admittedly confused.

“What?” he asks and Jiang Cheng sighs again.

“I need you to believe me on this, but also not to tell anyone,” Jiang Cheng says and Nie Mingjue nods before he even finished talking.

Jiang Cheng sends him a strange look but then he takes a deep breath.

“I can stop time,” Jiang Cheng tells him and it’s so far from anything Nie Mingjue expected that it takes him a good minute and a half to process it.

“You can what?” he then asks, because it does sound a bit implausible.

“Look at the table,” Jiang Cheng instructs and Nie Mingjue does, because Jiang Cheng is asking him to.

Their plates are still on there, and behind, Nie Mingjue sees the kitchen, where he only hastily put the pots and pans away before Jiang Cheng came over.

“When you next blink it will all be cleaned up,” Jiang Cheng says and then, when Nie Mingjue does blink it is cleaned up and the dishwasher gurgles to life too.

Jiang Cheng is sitting next to him on the couch, but the blanket is gone and tidily put over the arm rest, Jiang Cheng staring at him, the faintest blush on his cheeks.

“What the fuck,” Nie Mingjue whispers and then looks at his tidy kitchen again. “You just did all of that?” he demands to know and then immediately gentles his voice.

“Yes. I stopped the time and took my time tidying up, too.”

“But why would you?” Nie Mingjue asks, and he goes on before Jiang Cheng can object. “You’re my guest; you shouldn’t have to do these tasks.”

“It was the quickest way to show you, to make you believe,” Jiang Cheng says with a shrug and if he’s being honest Nie Mingjue is not yet sure he does believe him.

“I—can I have more proof?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng frowns.

“I’m not actually sure how to proof the absence of something like passing time to you with anything else,” he admits and Nie Mingjue gets out his phone.

“If I start writing a message can you stop time, take the phone from me and write something yourself?” he asks and when Jiang Cheng nods he immediately gets to it.

He starts writing This is all and then between one blink and the next the text on his phone says really unbelievable, but I would never accuse Jiang Cheng of lying and also I just loaded the washing machine.

Nie Mingjue throws a scathing look at Jiang Cheng before he gets up and walks over to the washing machine, only to find that it is in fact loaded and ready to go.

“What. The. Fuck,” Nie Mingjue says again, but this time he believes, even though it’s as unbelievable as it is, and then he is hit with a sudden realization.

“You’re using this to study more,” he accuses Jiang Cheng when he comes back into the living-room, and Jiang Cheng shrugs but he seems close to tears again.

“What else can I do?” he asks and he looks down at his hands. “Even with that it’s not enough. I study my ass off in a way I know Wei Wuxian isn’t and he still gets better grades. I’m not cheating directly, by looking at the notes a professor brings, but even fourteen or sixteen hours of studying do nothing. I can never be better than him,” Jiang Cheng says, and he’s this close to crying again, Nie Mingjue can tell.

“You don’t have to be better than Wei Wuxian,” Nie Mingjue tells him as he sits down next to him again. “You just have to be Jiang Cheng.”

“Yeah, because my mother is really liking who I am,” Jiang Cheng bites out and then scrubs a hand over his face.

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe your mother is wrong?” Nie Mingjue asks and he never wanted to strangle a person more.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jiang Cheng whispers. “I am simply not good enough.”

“You are,” Nie Mingjue softly says. “And it doesn’t matter how much you study if you don’t get enough sleep. If you spend ten hours instead of two studying, then you need at least fifteen hours of sleep. You can’t just extend your days however you want and still sleep the same as before,” Nie Mingjue gently chides him and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“If I could stop time when I’m asleep, I would,” he admits. “But as soon as I drift off, time goes on. I have to be conscious for it.”

“Then you have to stop,” Nie Mingjue says. “Jiang Cheng, it doesn’t matter if Wei Wuxian is better than you are. You’re second in all of your classes, right? You’re already so good, and it’s okay that you’re not the best. You simply need to be happy and healthy, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else expects from you.”

Nie Mingjue expected Jiang Cheng to burst into tears at that, but it’s still not very easy to take.

“You’re already so good, A-Cheng,” Nie Mingjue mutters as he pulls Jiang Cheng close, but Jiang Cheng pushes him away.

“You shouldn’t say that,” he gets out, the tears still flowing and then he avoids Nie Mingjue’s eyes. “I stole a kiss the first time I stopped time,” he mumbles, barely audible and Nie Mingjue’s heart stumbles in his chest.

“You did what?” he asks, because he has to be sure that he heard this right.

“I stole a kiss, so how good can I really be?” Jiang Cheng repeats, louder this time, clearly daring Nie Mingjue to get angry and kick him out, but Nie Mingjue only holds his hand out to him.

“Don’t you know that all my kisses belong to you anyway?” Nie Mingjue asks and watches as Jiang Cheng blushes, even under his tears. “You can take them all you want. I’m just a tiny bit sad that I didn’t get to experience our first kiss.”

“You can’t just—can’t just say that! Why won’t you get angry?”

“Because there’s nothing to be angry about. I just want you to be happy and to take care of you,” Nie Mingjue gives back and Jiang Cheng slumps.

Nie Mingjue counts it as a victory.

“Come here,” he cajoles, and Jiang Cheng follows his plea.

Nie Mingjue doesn’t hesitate to pull him into his arms again, and this time Jiang Cheng melts against him.

“You need to stop with what you’re doing,” Nie Mingjue whispers into Jiang Cheng’s hair. “You can’t study for ten or more hours a day and hope to be alright. It’s not healthy and it won’t get you what you want.”

“I won’t get what I want anyway,” Jiang Cheng mutters, voice choked up again and Nie Mingjue sighs.

“It’s not Wei Wuxian’s fault he retains the material as fast and as easily as he does,” Nie Mingjue says. “And it’s not your fault that you don’t. But punishing yourself for it, by doing this is not helping either.”

“I know,” Jiang Cheng bitterly says and then curls up into himself. “But even if I promise you to stop doing it, you would never know. You could never trust my word, because there’s no way for you to know if I am telling the truth.”

“Jiang Cheng,” Nie Mingjue says and he waits until Jiang Cheng uncurled enough to look at him. “If you tell me you didn’t use that power then I will believe you. What would we become if I couldn’t even believe you?” he softly goes on and Jiang Cheng hides his face in Nie Mingjue’s shoulder.

“That’s so mean,” he complains, but he stays where he is when Nie Mingjue presses a kiss to his hair even though it makes Jiang Cheng tense. “I’m not—I don’t know—I’m all messed up right now,” Jiang Cheng finally whispers and if he can recognize that, he’s less messed up than he clearly believes.

“Yes, you are, just a little bit,” Nie Mingjue agrees with him anyway and still keeps him where he is. “That’s why we’re going to go on dates first. That’s why nothing is going to happen until you feel better,” he decides and Jiang Cheng nods.

“Thank you,” he whispers into Nie Mingjue’s shoulder and Nie Mingjue starts to move his hand up and down his back.

“Don’t thank me for that,” he whispers and then he moves them into a more comfortable position.

They are going to wait with furthering this relationship, but Jiang Cheng clearly needs some comfort right now and Nie Mingjue will damn well give it to him.

And he’s more than happy when Jiang Cheng nods off against him, because it means he is getting some proper rest. And that is all Nie Mingjue wants for him right now.

Link to my ko-fi on my sidebar!

[han-shinsuke]

You totally forgot about the ‘plan’ you arranged with your friend turned into ‘someone’. You were enjoying your cup of cold brew latte with your former students when he walks in to the shop you were in. His ginger hair stood out in the sea of people having their coffee time hour. You almost choked on your drinks because of his serious face. Crap. How did he know you’re there? You didn’t even tell him where you were heading. Crap. You were also supposed to tell him your whereabouts!

“Shoyo?” you smiled awkwardly. He touched your temple and kissed you there before acknowledging the presences of the two young ladies sitting adjacent to you.

“Hello!” he beamed, initiating hand gestures. “I know this is so sudden but we really need to go. Would you mind if I take her away this instant, ladies?” Shoyo asked, gripping your hand placed atop your right leg.

Your students looked like they were having daydreams while staring at Shoyo’s angelic face so they just nodded their head. Undeniably persuaded by Shoyo’s charms.

“I used your phone’s GPS to locate you.” before you could ask, he told you while crossing the pedestrian lane to reach his car parked on the other side of the road.

He was holding your hand tightly and you were not sure what for? You were not even thinking of running away because who would want to run away from him? Shoyo opened the door on the passenger’s seat side, eager to see you trapped from the seatbelt.

“You didn’t tell me you’ll be hanging out with your friends.” he sounds unpleased with your lack of consideration so you whispered an apology when he was already seated beside you inside his car.

“I’m sorry, Shoyo.I used to tell no one my day to day activities or even asked for someone else’s approval if I could do this and that.”

You were alone most of your life. Done things on your own. Attend to yourself whenever you were sick. So, everything is new to you. Especially a guy caring about you in different ways. Shoyo and you were just friend, not the closest in the circle, you were single from the day you were allowed to entertain suitors but decided to focus on your life, sounds selfish and very self-centred but what can you do? You were raised to care for yourself first before looking out for anyone else.

Whilst, Shoyo, his life is far different from you. He’s been into some serious relationships before. But you, what do you know about intimacy, passion and responsibility?

“Are you serious about us?” you kept your gaze on the road when you ask. From your peripheral vision, you saw him clenched his jaw while driving carefully. “If not, there’s still time and chance for you to back out. We’re just a week old, you know.”

“I must say the same to you, Y/N.” he spoke calmly though the veins on his hands were popped out. “Do you wish to be free from ‘us’?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“I like you. I like you always. But I’m afraid of what people around us might say to you. I can’t bear the thoughts of you explaining why you chose me when you CAN choose the best of the best.”

You chewed on your lips. Negative thoughts weighing you down.

“How come you ended up dating Miss denim & shirt? You like girls in skirts and dresses.” you joked. One more push and you’ll be crying your doubts.

Shoyo just smirked at you. Rather to add more weight to your heavy heart, he chose to tease you. “Are you trying to make me forget about our plan today? You agreed to do some ‘touching’ with me, Y/N. Girlfriend duty, remember?”

And that made you laugh and at the same time nervous. Shoyo is your very first boyfriend at the age of twenty five. You were nothing but a clueless lady bound to be his.

You two reached the apartment complex he’s currently living at. He parked the car and helped you off from it. His unit is on the tenth floor. Whilst inside the lift, you chose to stand behind him. You marveled your eyes on his sexy back and flawless arms. He looks magnificently beautiful. Too much for your kind to have.

The elevator 𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈! Shoyo turned to you then smiled. Grabbing you by the arm as he dragged you to his apartment.

He let go of you for a moment to input his door code. You stepped back. Nervousness creeping in into your nerves. You gazed at both sides, you thought of running but Shoyo brought you back to your senses by sliding an arm around your waist. You looked up to him. He flashed you a comforting smile.

“You’ll be fine, Y/N,” said he before pulling you inside.

There were few details you remembered before finding yourself staring at a corner where a mirror is mounted on the wall.

First, right at that moment when he slams the door closed behind you, Shoyo attacked your lips. Eagerly. Squeezing you hard inside his arms. The kiss lasted for an hour, not continually though. He knew you barely know how to kiss so he took his time teaching you the basic while you sat on his lap. He kept rubbing your back with his palm. He felt your struggles. He surely do. You were moving slow against his lips, Shoyo felt the need to take everything under his control. You were driving him crazy by the way you kiss. It felt hot. To end the patience-testing kiss, Shoyo had to pull out from your mouth. He won’t last by only kissing you. You looked like a lost kitten when he abandon your mouth. You were getting used to how he taste not until he gave you a hard bite on the corner of your lips.

Second, he yanked you towards his room, pushing you down on his soft bed. 𝑭𝒖𝒄𝒌. He cursed under his breath when he forget to remove your clothes. Your skin glows from the dark schemes of his bedsheets. He decided to leave your socks after undressing you. Shoyo delved into your flesh, planting soft kisses on both folds. You gasped from the foreign sensations. Calling his name. The kiss and his touch levels up. Touching you with his tongue and fingers on the most crucial part of your core. When you started squirming and you even pushed his face off your skin, Shoyo resorted to tying your hands together.

This time, he moved differently. Licking and thumbing you with needs. His mouth felt sharp on you. You even started sobbing from the uncontrolled feelings. His touch feels too much.

𝑰𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒚𝒐... 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒂𝒉𝒉 𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒔... your muscles were spasming from his sucking and licking. Something warm is coiling up in your stomach. Shoyo doubled the digits on your bud, intensifying the heat you were feeling down there.

It was just a finger and mouth play but you were already sobbing hard. Suddenly, the movements stopped. He left you squirming and whimpering on his bed. He denied you of your peak. You held your knees close to your chest, crying, legs trembling from the sharpness loitering inside your womanhood.

Shoyo kneeled at the bottom of the bed and pulled your body halfway to the edge. You sobbed and called his name. Telling him where it hurts. 𝑴𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝑺𝒉𝒐! When he take a look at your face, you told him immediately. He seemed composed and aware of what to do next, so he spread your legs apart and kissed you torridly while giving your lips between your thighs a sharp slap, making you whimper inside his mouth.

𝑺𝒔𝒉𝒉𝒉. 𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒐 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏, 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚. He released your mouth then started putting his marks on your neck, on your collarbones, down to your breasts, to your abdomen until it goes back to your swollen and milking folds.

At last, Shoyo devoured you without putting himself at rest. It was your first orgasm and it supposed to hurt. And he soothed you by touching you so gently.

He kept his promise. 𝑶𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒔. He made you felt good only by his tongue, lips and fingers. He didn’t put it in. Not today. He will, when you are ready.

You pushed your trembling body on a sitting position, feet touching the floor. You were still sobbing and there were tears in your eyes. Shoyo took off his earth tone shirt and slid it on you. You didn’t think twice, you hugged him tightly, sobbing against his exposed chest.

He returned the warm gesture then kissed your temple, hands rubbing your back.

He told you he’ll get you a glass of water so you freed him from your hug. Shoyo walked out of his room, leaving you sighing and trembling.

You happened to see your messy state in the mirror from a corner. The wound on your lips stands among the marks he left on you. He bit you pretty hard earlier.

Shoyo came back with a glass of water, a first aid kit and a pack of cleaning wipes.

“Hey, drink this.” He lifted your face, helping you to empty the glass.

You held the empty glass in your hands. Shoyo took out a tiny tube and put some cream on the wound on your lips. You ended up watching his face and you also ended up falling for him deeper this time.

“Wanna grab some iced coffee? I know a place.” He spoke when he notice your intense stare on his face.

“I really like you, Shoyo Hinata.” You confessed for the nth time. It made him giggle.

“I know.” He said playfully. He took the glass from you and dropped it on the mattress. “In case you flinch from this, let’s save the glass from breaking.”

He pinched your cheeks before starting cleaning your inner thighs using some sanitary wipes.

“I really like you, too, Y/N.”

🌹❤️

[somesaycosmo]

laurence, the first vicar - an analysis

hi! this is future marie, when i'm going back through and finalizing my draft of this post. this was originally meant to just be an analysis of laurence's song, but it turned into more than that, so just bear with it!

"oh look it's my favorite boss soundtrack in soulsborne! thankfully, bloodborne is a very simple game with straightforward lore, and the lyrics of its tracks are similarly straightforward, so there's not much to analyze here." -a quote from an alternate universe marie who was blessed with a game that didn't give her frenzy

"bloodborne's tracks have lyrics?" you might ask - and yes, in fact, they do! many of them have choral lyrics in latin, including mr laurence "i forgot the sacred adage" lastname's track here.

before we start, please listen to the song, if only because it's very good

this post is using the translated lyrics from this bloodborne wiki, while taking some liberties with the interpretation based on the game's lore. i do not know latin, but if anyone does, i'd love for them to hit me up. i'm also going to specifically tag @rococospade-main, both to shout them out for being great to discuss bloodborne lore with (it's where i got the idea to write this post)

as always, lore starts below the line

so the song starts with 4 lines, as follows

Children, know that if you will abide by the sacred rite with great commitment There will be a reward through the Holy Blood You will be rewarded with the hidden Holy Blood Or, maybe I shall lose my humanity through the Holy Blood

already starting off strong with the "questioning one's faith" vibes, eh, larry?

"children" might be in reference to actual children, or it might be the thing priests do, where they're called "father" and stuff (can you tell i'm not christian?) with laurence in this case being the "father" and the disciples of the church being his "children"

the reward from the holy blood is, of course, ascension, which we all know everyone from byrgenwerth strived for, because they're losers. "hidden holy blood" might be in reference to ebrietas bein all locked up in the chalice dungeons?

"maybe i shall lose my humanity through the holy blood" is, based on how early it is in the song, likely about laurence looking forward; loss of humanity is seen as a good thing, because it means ascension. the dramatic irony of this is of course obvious, considering the song plays when we're beating the shit out of laurence's fallen and bestial form - because loss of humanity can also mean other things, it turns out.

We honor you with the Blood Yet you judge this as blasphemy You are obsessed with this mystery And you shall be overcome by bestiality

We honor you with the Blood Yet you judge this as blasphemy We are hindered by this mystery Water does not achieve success

now laurence is speaking to the gods instead of to his followers. "we honor you with blood / yet you judge this as blasphemy" is likely him pleading to the gods. the description of the defiled chalice reads, "Curses are caused by inciting the anger of the Great Ones, and used to hex others." this paints a picture of the gods as somewhat vengeful; it makes sense that the beastly scourge, then, would be hypothesized to be a plague cast upon humanity for some sin they've committed, and laurence would know best what exactly that sin is.

"you are obsessed with this mystery / and you shall be overcome by bestiality" seems out of place in the rest of this section, given it's the only one that refers to humanity as "you," but i've taken this as it being the gods replying to laurence in the song, with the mystery likely being "how to ascend to godhood". this is the blasphemy you have committed, they say, and you shall be overcome by bestiality

"we are hindered by this mystery" once again, we're talking from laurence's perspective. firstly, laurence for the first time admits that obsession with ascension might not be so great, actually.

"water does not achieve success" this could be interpreted as talking about the whole "great bodies of water are often bulwarks" thing discussed in the lake and sea runes, laurence sort of saying "protecting ourselves from the truth does nothing to help us ascend," with water, effectively, being "safety." to go further, in my personal interpretation, this is more about the comparison of blood and water. you know that old saying, "blood is thicker than water"? that came to mind immediately while reading these lyrics, given the constant talking about blood in the song (and in the game). perhaps here laurence is comparing water to blood with water, water being "safety" and blood being "success" (ascension). to reference the item description for the white church set, "They believe that medicine is not a means of treatment but rather a method for research, and that some knowledge can only be obtained by exposing oneself to sickness." this will come up later.

By the Gods, friend Be afraid By the Gods, friend The Blood Be afraid You are right to

this is familiar! this could be willem speaking, this could be laurence speaking to someone else, or this could be laurence speaking to himself (my writer's brain imagines him muttering this quietly to himself in despair as his mental health and questioning of his faith declines) - due to "you are right to [fear the blood]," i lean towards him talking to himself as if talking to willem, perhaps wishing he had actually feared the old blood, or saying that willem is better off for doing so. regardless, it is incredibly reminiscent of the sacred adage ("fear the old blood" etc etc we all know it by heart at this point), and is likely supposed to be that.

It will be a majestic festivity By the Holy Blood So come, this sweet wine O defiled juice (this has to mean "wine" or "drink" i refuse to believe laurence would refer to the holy blood as a juice. i will not allow it)

this one, oddly, seems to indicate a toneshift - i would argue it's a result of his spiraling mental state. throughout the song he's questioning his faith and his actions, chanting his old mentor's sacred adage to himself; his life up to this point is a life of success while the cure and path to ascension he was peddling to yharnam turns them into horrific beasts. so he ends up doubling down on the religious fervor he started this endeavor with. this delves more into headcanon territory, so bear with me for a second:

have you ever thought about why laurence drops the beast's embrace rune?

laurence, the first vicar, the first cleric beast, drops the rune that allows you to enter a state of controlled beasthood whenever you want (provided you use a beastly weapon, of course). isn't that odd? shouldn't he drop something that, like, increases the amount blood vials heal you? maybe super duper extra special communion +6? why would he drop that rune, of all things, especially when the game already has a named character they could've put in to drop it (that being irreverent izzy)?

let's look at the item description.

After the repeated experiments in controlling the scourge of beasts, the gentle "Embrace" rune was discovered.

When its implementation failed, the "Embrace" became a forbidden rune, but this knowledge became a foundation of the Healing Church.

now i am not necessarily going to suggest that laurence dreamed up the beast's embrace rune himself - it could make sense, but that isn't necessary for the rest of what i'm about to say, which is this: the last part of the song is laurence giving into beasthood voluntarily.

perhaps he believed so strongly in the blood of ebrietas taking him to ascension that he decided beasthood must be it, must be the next step for humanity; perhaps, in a final move of desperation, he tried to control beasthood by experimenting on himself with this rune; or perhaps he had already imbibed so much of the old blood that he couldn't control his need to spill the blood of others.

personally, i lean toward the second interpretation. let's look at the description of laurence's (human) skull:

Skull of Laurence, first vicar of the Healing Church. In reality he became the first cleric beast, and his human skull only exists within the Nightmare.

The skull is a symbol of Laurence's past, and what he failed to protect. He is destined to seek his skull, but even if he found it, it could never restore his memories.

firstly, i'd just like to point out the irony in the statement "he is destined to seek his skull"; he spends his human life seeking ascension, and when he achieves metamorphosis, he is cursed to spend that form trying to find his humanity again, mindless, lost in a nightmare.

secondly, and more to the point, let's look at the line "a symbol of laurence's past, and what he failed to protect." examining this item for its symbolism is fairly clear - it's a relic of laurence's humanity, and that's exactly what he failed to protect, the humanity of himself and others. this description leads me to believe he wanted to protect humanity, but failed.

a lot of interpretations of him have him as this truly evil person who was just deceiving the city of yharnam for his own personal gain, but honestly, i don't buy that. that's not what bloodborne is about. i mean bloodborne is and can be about a lot of things, and i could ascribe dozens of basic thematic interpretations of it off the top of my head, but characterization that simple doesn't fit bloodborne (and, frankly, it's not tragic enough for miyazaki).

so, with all that combined, why do i believe that laurence branded himself with beast's embrace in an attempt to further research on the control of beasthood, so as to protect humanity? well, to go back to an item description from earlier, some knowledge can only be obtained by exposing oneself to sickness.

thank you for reading.

[prideful-sins]

A welcome distraction; Lucifer x GN! MC Smut

Prompt:“If I have to stop what i’m doing, you wont be able to walk for the next week.”

This ends on a sort of opening to a 2nd fic so let me know if you want a part two where he does fuck the life out of you.

Tags: SMUT, Blowjobs, Gender Neutral MC, Cum swallowing, also bottom-ish Lucifer because I love him

Word Count: 2.1K

Masterlist | Buy Me A Coffee?

—

It had been a boring week in The House or Lamentation, your usual flirting with the brothers to make Lucifer jealous had hardly been seen. You weren’t a bad person for doing it, merely the fact that whenever he saw you do it he got jealous and would fuck you into oblivion, but this week Lucifer had been swamped with work. Filling out reports for Diavolo, forms from RAD, and working through his own school work to keep his grades. An all around boring week.

You sat on the couch in the common room, Asmodeus was next to you scrolling through hundreds of his selfies for a ‘throwback Thursday’. You had taught him about it on Monday and heard nothing but what he wanted to post but now that the time was here he wasn’t quite so sure.

“MC which one?” Asmo was just so excited about thee two selfies, that looked the same.... exactly the same.

“That one?” You pointed at the one on the left and Asmodeus’ face dropped, “okay okay. That one?” His face lit up and Asmo hugged you.

“I knew you’d agree with me!” You nodded along as Asmo got up and pranced away, smiling as he looked down at his D.D.D. and, once again, the room was quiet. Your eyes darted around the empty room trying to find things to do but all you wanted was to see Lucifer.... and you know what? You were going to go and see him.

A light knock echoed within the halls, you stood before Lucifer’s study and waited for his voice.

“Who is it?” His voice was soft and inviting.

“It’s me.”

“Come in” you smiled and opened the door. Lucifer was sat at his desk with papers and documents surrounding him, his cloak shrugged off and a few buttons of his shirt loosened with no tie in sight. “Hello love” Lucifer’s voice was a warm welcome, his nickname for you sending a shiver through your stomach and up your spine.

“Hello darling” You closed the door and walked over to you boyfriend, his eyes following you as you came closer. Your hands locked together behind your back in a playful manner.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Lucifer looked back down at his work and continued writing, it was some sort of report for Diavolo and you saw your name written on the paper.

“Are you writing about me?” You circled around the desk and placed your hands on his shoulders, fingers pointing towards his chest.

Lucifer gave a light chuckle before replying, “Indeed I am, just a weekly report of how your school work is going and how you’re faring with us”

“How I’m faring?” You leaned down, dragging your hands down Lucifer’s chest, and nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck. Lucifer smiled and leaned his head on yours. “I’d say I’m faring rather well” your voice was muffled from within Lucifer clothes, your hands slid even further down and your fingertips grazed along Lucifer’s thigh, he shifted slightly at the contact and made a curious noise.

“Is that truly what you wish for right now?” Lucifer voice was inquisitive, you could feel his eyebrow raising via his words alone, and you were sure there was a smirk on his face.

“Whatever you could you mean my dear Lucifer?” you played nonchalantly to his accusations as your fingertips continued caressing his thighs, a small and chaste kiss placed upon his neck, which earned you a satisfied moan.

 “If I have to stop what I’m doing, you wont be able to walk for the next week” Lucifer’s voice dripped with a sultry tone, he lifted his head up and continued writing his report.

“Who said you had to stop?” You pressed another kiss onto his neck as you whispered your reply, fingers delving further into the insides of his thighs, Lucifer’s back shivering at the invasion.

“You make a valid point” with Lucifer’s approval you stood up and circled around him, before kneeling down and looking him in the eye.

“Out.” You instructed, Lucifer merely looked at you with a quizzical brow, “your chair. Out.” Lucifer obliged, albeit slightly unwillingly. His chair slid along floor with a high squeak as he sat on the edge, his knees wide apart and eager for you to fill the space. You crawled forward and placed your hand upon his inner thighs, thumbs teetering along the seams to his crotch.

Lucifer continued to look at his work, trying to ignore you as your hands worked their way to his waistband, you bit your bottom lip and unhooked the buttons. Lucifer moved his hips around and lifted himself up to make it just a little easier for you both.

He was already semi-hard, his cock tenting within his underwear, a little constrained by the fabric. You placed your hand on the top and began rubbing softly, his body visibly tensing at the feeling, a hard breath betraying his calm composure. You could feel him getting harder at the contact, the way his hips rolled just a little to make the strokes last just that little while longer.

Lucifer growled as your hands moved into the waistband of his underwear, the contact of his skin making you more eager to feel more of him. Slowly you slid the fabric down, his neatly trimmed pubes coming into view as you continued to undress his lower half. More and more of his shaft came into view and you licked your lips eagerly, your heart speeding up as you became restless.

Lucifer’s dick was released, and you bit your lips once again, hand grasping the base of his cock and massaging slightly, the flesh getting harder and harder as you pumped him. You leaned down and licked one of his balls, a soft hiss coming from Lucifer as his body tensed up, you smirked as you continued to lick and suck at Lucifer’s balls, your hand now closed around his fully erect penis, with a little precum dripping out of his slit.

“You ready?” You whisper bringing your mouth to the tip of his penis, tongue poking out from your teeth in a cheeky smile.

“Indeed I am” Lucifer continued to look at his work, a slight flush upon his cheeks as his quill scratched against the grain on the paper. You smiled and placed your tongue on the underside of the head, and licked your way along his slit, precum pooling on your tongue as you took it into your mouth and swallowed. 

After swallowing you placed your tongue, once again, on the base of the tip and began swirling it around. A shift in Lucifer’s breathing notifying you that what you were doing was working wonders for him right now. You continued to lick around the tip as your hand massaged the base of his dick, pubes intermingling with your knuckles as your thumb rubbed circles along a vein.

Lucifer bit his lip as a sigh escaped his composed face, a soft hum as his hips began to grow restless. Your tongue continued to swirl and twirl around his head, your hand now pumping his shaft slowly, spit drooling down your mouth as your hot breaths tingled upon Lucifer’s skin. He was getting visibly restless, your teasing throwing his composure out of the window. You placed your tongue flat on the base of his head and moved it down the shaft a little, another sharp breath inhaled by Lucifer as your tongue moved further down his dick.

Seeing Lucifer get visibly uncomfortable with your teasing was amazing, his cheeks dusted rose and his bottom lip reddening from his gnawing teeth, waiting in anticipation for you to take all of him in your mouth, and you started to. You moved your head down and took the first few inches into your mouth, tongue flat on the base and wrapping around all of his flesh, the warmth surging within your mouth as your own desires began to drive you crazy.

A soft hum vibrated through Lucifer’s dick as you moaned into your pleasures, lips wrapping around his flesh as you bobbed your head up and down his thick cock. His chest was heaving as sweat began to pool at the base of Lucifer’s neck, he reached up, and undid some more buttons to cool himself off a little but it wasn’t working. Your head moved at a faster pace, moving further down his cock until his head was hitting the back of your throat and even then, you still had a few inches to cover. Your hand wrapped around the base and massaged those left over inches, other hand resting on his inner thigh.

Those cute and adorable noises Lucifer made, the small grunts and soft moans, drove you wild. Your head became faster and faster, he had dropped his pen and weaved a hand within your hair, head leaned back with a face of pure ecstasy. Your eyes looked up to appreciate the view, and what a view it was. These moments where Lucifer wasn’t in control, he could let his walls down and just enjoy himself with you.

Lucifer’s thighs began tensing uncontrollably, his hand clutching a chunk of your hair unintentionally, and his breath ragged and unrhythmical. Your head continued bobbing up and down as his dick started twitching, veins pulsating as Lucifer lost his composure more and more.

“MC I’m-“ you cut him off by humming an affirmative tone, telling him that no words were necessary as your eyes looked at his. He was desperate and dishevelled, he stared down at you with half lidded eyes filled with lust and adoration as you continued to pleasure him relentlessly. Lucifers moans were always quiet and reserved when you went down on him like this, like he was scared to show you how much you were pleasing him, terrified that he was making a horrid face that would make you realise how weak for you he really was. He’d always throw his head back so you couldn’t see his weakest moment with you, you didn’t mind and had told him in the past just how much you adored seeing his face when he came, and last time you ordered him to show you his face the next time he came, pact marks really came in handy.

Lucifer hoped you had forgotten about your past orders, he felt his head become unmovable as stars blurred his vision, the heat from within his abdomen coarsing throughout his entire body as Lucifer stared into your expectant eyes. You continued sucking him off, tongue wrapped around each bump and vein that his dick offered, and you stared into his eyes waiting anxiously for him to release into your mouth. Lucifer jolted once more as his brows furrowed and his eyes watered, he bit his lips and was panting like a dog in heat. His hand had been moved from your hair and was planted firmly in your shoulder, his fingers digging into your clothing and skin and likely to leave a light bruise.

“Ahh~ ha~” Lucifer’s hips twitched forward and his cum spilled into your mouth, the liquids hitting the back of your throat and seeping down the tube, a light gag and cough as you adjusted to the load. He looked directly at you in his weakened state, a tear rolling down his cheek through his dishevelled locks, and his mouth open with ragged breathing and desperate moans. You swallowed his cum and removed your mouth from his dick, the last dregs of his seed seeping out and ripe for your tongue to do some last minute clean up.

Finally free from the binding of your order Lucifer lay his head back and rested his arms on the arms rests of his chair, softly panting as his dick became more flaccid with the lack of energy.

“It seems,” you remarked as you licked some stray semen from the corner of your mouth, “you had to stop what you were doing”

Lucifer gave a breathy chuckle to your statement and nodded along “indeed, and let’s not have it be said I’m not a demon of my word” he leaned forward, his eyes glistening and a toothy smirk radiating lust. His hand cane to your neck and he pulled you up, not choking but dominating, and you happily obliged. You returned his smirk and placed a hungry kiss on his neck, disobeying his non-verbal order and taking control.

“And what are you going to do about that?”

“Make sure you won’t be able to walk for the next week, get ready MC”

[white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen]

Cross the Ocean

A/N: Requested by @starry--skies​. Sidenote: this may be a good story for a sequel sometime.

Summary: Neal once told you he would cross the ocean to be with you, but when you know he’s in danger, you’ll cross the ocean yourself to save him.

Word Count: 2,955

           How could an apartment feel so cold and empty when the same number of people dwelled in its walls? You supposed it had been long enough that all the signs of him had faded. Spare clothes, returned to June, because there was no one else to return them to; the extra toothbrush trashed because no one was using it, anyway, and why have it take up more space? The linens could only go unwashed for so long, the last flowers he had offered died months ago, and his necklace was sitting in your jewelry box, unseen, because it hurt too much to wear it.

           The same number of people lived in it, true. But Neal hadn’t needed to live there to leave his mark, and now that mark was gone, jumped on a plane without a goodbye, just like him.

~~~ Cross the Ocean ~~~

           “Don’t go,” you said, unprompted, staring across the room to the dark shadows covering the wall.

           You could feel his movement as Neal picked up his head. “Where would I go?” He asked, confused, sleepiness adorably muddling his voice.

           You shrugged halfheartedly, already regretting having said it out loud. He felt your shoulders under his arm and tightened his warm hold on you, tugging you closer to the heat of his chest.

           “Just don’t go,” you said again, hugging yourself comfortingly.

           The idea that the man beside you could leave – had a history of leaving – without a trace left you feeling cold already. You were a cautious person, but loving someone the way you suspected you were growing to love Neal made you want to let down your guard. It was scary, like taking off the Kevlar vest to assuage someone with a gun; you were reasonably certain that you were safe, but you were also making yourself vulnerable to massive injury.

           Neal moved his hand slowly, probably just so you would know that he hadn’t fallen asleep. He didn’t answer right away. The silence and the stroking of your arm sent mixed messages and you had just about settled on reading it as pity, and almost curled up tighter and moved away. Did he think you were clingy? Did he think it was pitiful that you expected him to stay with you? Maybe you had misread everything.

           His hand stopped moving and he moved again, just enough to press his lips to your forehead. “Y/N,” he said, softly, his voice clearer. Thinking on it had woken him up more. “I don’t plan to go anywhere. Definitely not anywhere you can’t follow.”

           Whew. There was a softness and delicateness to the way he talked to you, but it sure didn’t sound like pity or exasperation. More like… empathy, and maybe apology, for your evident insecurity and any role that his past played in it.

           “I guess I just – I keep thinking one day I’ll wake up and you’ll be an ocean away.” Without me, you wanted to add, but figured it was implied. And unnecessary, probably, since he had done it to Kate before, or close enough. He had likely learned the kind of damage that did to a relationship.

           Neal resumed his gentle stroking of your arm. “Oceans aren’t a big deal. We’ve got cruises and airplanes now,” he reassured with a playful bit of teasing. More seriously, but very simply and matter-of-factly, he continued, “And if someday we wake up an ocean apart, I’d cross the ocean.”

~~~ Cross the Ocean ~~~

           It was easy to be bitter and easy to resent. In the beginning, you had been insecure, nervous that he would leave overnight when an opportunity arose. How could you not? Neal tried to leave forever without so much as a goodbye to anyone, only stopped by a bomb and a lost love. It had irked you then, and it scared you when your rapport deepened. He had fake documents ready to go, an agreed-upon rendezvous point with Mozzie planned for any given time. Neal worked hard to assure you he loved you. You weren’t sure he ever managed to convince you there was no chance of his leaving, but you at least had confidence that he would say goodbye, give you a chance to have closure.

           No such luck. Part of you knew it wasn’t out of lack of desire, but rather lack of opportunity. The other part wanted it to shut up. Love him as you did, you knew Neal’s situation was a product of his own choices. He made his bed, and he should have lied in it, but for the family he had found in the city who loved him too much to let him rot in the pocket of a man who’d use him as a tool and throw him back in prison the second he stopped being useful – or, worse, leave him to die when it became too much trouble.

           Whenever you embraced the anger, because the sorrow was too overwhelming, you resented Neal for all his stupid choices. Keeping the painting, pulling those stunts on the aerial tramway, and baiting Kramer for months with constant near-misses that could’ve been avoided if he had just stopped breaking the law. It was such a simple solution. And you were angry. The last six months of your relationship had been rocky, because the anger wasn’t new, it wasn’t just because he had gone away. It was because he kept compromising himself, and his coworkers and friends by extension, and yourself by association.

           Holding onto anger was never your forte when it came to Neal, though. Sooner or later, usually within a couple of days, you would see or hear or do something that would remind you of the man, and you’d be hit with a wall of all the good memories, all the things he did that made you feel pride and adoration and contentment. Then came the longing and loss, and finally, the blame. The blame that you had just failed to pin on Neal himself, so you embraced the bitterness instead.

           Peter had one job and instead, he turned Neal loose. Gave him the green light to run. At least if Neal had gone with Kramer, there was the chance of a happy ending. There was a reasonable chance that, with the WCCD at his back, Kramer wouldn’t be able to keep Neal past the two years left on his original sentence, and when it was over he could have come home. Peter had ruined any chance of that, his silent gesture telling Neal that there was no alternative and that he had the approval of his family here. Most importantly, that nod was a goodbye, and acceptance, and an “I love you, so I’m letting you be free”. You’d never begrudged Neal his close relationship with Peter but you felt cheated that, on top of ruining any slight chance of your partner returning to you, he got to say goodbye while you were left blindsided and heartbroken.

           The first time you resorted to bitterness to cope, it lasted several weeks. You avoided Peter and dodged his team. They were worried, and El reached out, but you politely assured her you were fine and just didn’t want to see any of them. She respected your wishes and must have told her husband because he, Diana, and Clinton all stopped trying to find you. Neal’s friends were like salt in your wounds, even the ones who hadn’t told him to go. It was too deep and too fresh to handle the reminders. Hell, you could still barely handle your own apartment. You really didn’t know how deeply in love you were until Neal was gone.

           It took longer, but the bitterness and betrayal ran its course and became exhausting, as well. Finally, you cycled back into sadness and mourning, which took so much out of you but demanded so little. Roses made you cry because you thought of the roses Neal would give you. So did your favorite dress, which was only your favorite because it was his favorite, too. Tiny things that you could expect to encounter at least once every few days would make you feel hopeless. You were grieving, as if he had died. Knowing he was alive and well didn’t soothe the pain because the permanence of his decision to flee the authorities put him so out of your reach, he might as well have died.

           Every run through the stages hurt a little bit less, wound up a little bit shorter. You were healing, you knew, but the ache in your heart persisted. Learning to function again, learning to be prosperous and content without him, was an option, no matter how impossible it seemed on some days. On those days, you weren’t sure you even wanted to. Neal had earned such a place in your life and in your heart, and even when the things he did made you see red, you still knew in both heart and mind that he loved you and was yours. Some little piece of you wanted to still be his, so that you could keep that connection, that last thing you had of him.

           That little piece was such an asshole.

~~~ Cross the Ocean ~~~

           A deep delve into your professional life helped keep you occupied so you didn’t think too hard. It wasn’t the healthiest way of processing a breakup, no matter how messy or devastating said breakup was. Still, it was better to be productive and helpful than to let yourself continue spiraling and cycling through destructive emotions and patterns. The summer passed agonizingly slowly but when you looked back, it was like the blink of an eye. Suddenly it had been a whole season since you had last seen Neal. The romantic side of you wanted to say that it hurt just as much as it had before, but… it didn’t.

           You felt awful thinking it, and then awful for feeling awful for having a life after him. Neal was gone. He had no choice about leaving New York, but he did have a choice about how, and he chose the route that left no possibility of a reunion. Why the hell should you wait around for him, wishing you kept hurting for a man who clearly was more interested in his freedom than in recovering what you had together?

           Going home the day you had that thought, you looked at the button for the 21st floor and for the first time in a long time, you actually thought about just poking your head in and seeing how Neal’s other friends were doing, and then you realized the anger was running out. You didn’t have the energy or the will to keep deliberately resenting Neal or Peter.

~~~ Cross the Ocean ~~~

           By August, you could look back on everything and understand the decisions that were made. You didn’t agree with them, but you understood the desperation fueling them and the fear that Neal must have felt. The moment Neal’s handler, whoever that was, tied his hands and threw him aside, the man was as good as dead, just in a matter of time. Kramer wasn’t above that. If he were free – even just by flight – Neal could protect himself. You could forgive him for leaving, but you weren’t sure he was forgiven for leaving without even a phone call to you as he booked it to the airport.

           Later that month, though, your personal grievances didn’t seem to matter all that much. A man approached you while you were at work. You thought he was the man you’d asked to come answer some questions, but no – you were the one being questioned. He was cynical, evasive, and exacting, and clearly after information on Neal.

           As soon as he left, you went to the twenty-first floor and beelined for Peter’s office, ignoring the tentative, sympathetic greetings from familiar faces. Peter glanced up when you entered and then did a shocked double-take. It was the first time you had voluntarily approached him in months, after all.

           Peter stood up so quickly his chair legs scraped loudly on the floor. “Y/N,” he said right away, but then obviously had no idea where he was trying to go, unable to figure out what to say. You could see the sympathy and sorrow on his face. Not only did you lose your partner, and Peter had lost his friend, but the other agent had encouraged your partner to leave. He knew from your avoidance that you blamed him, at least partially.

           With a wave of your hand, you dismissed it. Nothing Peter could say would fix the situation. You knew what he had done was in Neal’s best interests, weighing his wellbeing over your feelings. Where Neal wasn’t forgiven, Peter was, finally, and the avoidance that remained was just about trying to distance yourself from reminders of your blue-eyed artist.

           “Someone just came asking questions about Neal,” you said, crossing your arms and peering across the office at Peter. “Agent Collins. He said he’s just tying up loose ends, but he’s not, is he?”

           Peter’s openmouthed surprise turned into a grim purse of his lips. He shook his head, looking frustrated, and gestured for you to close the door. You did, and leaned back against it. “He’s the bureau’s version of a bounty hunter,” the agent confided, putting his fists down on his desk and leaning onto it. “Neal was almost commutated, then slipped out under their noses. It makes them look bad. They want to get him back.”

           You didn’t miss that Peter was using pronouns that excluded himself, but didn’t comment. It was no surprise – he’d made his stance clear when he encouraged Neal to go. “Why now?” You demanded. “It’s been months, surely the trail’s cold.”

           “Best guess?” Peter hazarded, sighing deeply. “They’ve spent this time trying to find him other ways. Now they’re realizing that Neal’s better than they thought and all they want to do is make an example out of him.”

           Oh, hell no. “Like they haven’t already?” You asked snidely. Peter tilted his head aside, not explicitly agreeing but getting his point across all the same.

           The bureau had your trust – for the most part. When it came to their treatment of Neal, your eyes had been opened to how even organizations seeking justice could be completely unjust in their treatment of people who lacked recourse. Neal was frequently put in life-threatening situations with no training and no choice in the matter except to be put back in prison. Enough people knew Neal was working with the FBI for Sing Sing to be a life-threatening situation, in and of itself. Neal was nothing but a tool to them because he lacked the normal resources of walking away or pursuing litigation.

           You looked aside, glowering at the drab office wall. “It gets worse,” Peter wearily told you. “Collins is looking for a win. And at this point, a dead fugitive is just as good of an example as an incarcerated one.”

           “Not happening,” you refused furiously. “What the hell happened to proportionality?” Neal may have pissed some people off, Robin Hood-ing from the one percent, but he was never violent. Sending a bounty hunter after him with permission to kill was wildly inappropriate and inhumane.

           “I’m afraid proportionality isn’t the first thing on the mind,” Peter warned as you stalked further into his office, toward his desk.

           “We have to warn him,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to Peter. Neal was “run at any time” paranoid, not “stay away from windows” paranoid.

           “Yes,” Peter nodded, “But we can’t. We don’t know where he is. There is no way of telling him.” The agent wasn’t giving up or resigning himself to being useless. As much as there was disappointment and worry in his face, there was also stubbornness.

           “So we find him,” you quietly suggested. “No one knows him better than we do.”

           “Y/N.” Peter dropped his voice to match your volume and spoke with a soft, concerned tone. “You have to understand, finding Neal and not turning him in, much less tipping him off about Collins, is outside the law.”

           “The law is apparently saying it’s okay to murder a man who has, at worst, taken money that isn’t his.” You fervently stated. That wasn’t your first concern, Neal was, but you needed Peter to know that you weren’t just in this because you were in love with the man in question. There was a principle at stake, and a moral obligation. “The equivalent of chopping off a pickpocket’s hand, coming from the government that supposedly despises cruelty and injustice. I won’t support that, and I sure as hell won’t stand by and let it be done to someone I love.”

           While you had been talking, Peter had slowly started to smile. It was the smile he used to always give to Neal when he was proud, when your boyfriend would remind him that Neal was a kind person with a good, loving soul. Having it directed at you reminded you far too much of the smile Neal always gave back and your chest tightened – not just at the memory, but at the decision which meant you were bound to see it again.

           “I knew you were going to say that,” Peter admitted with a small, relieved grin, like the shared challenge and conspiracy were washing all the sourness and distance under the bridge. You really thought that maybe it was. His confidence in you and his commitment to your boyfriend reassured you that you weren’t losing your mind and you weren’t alone, no matter how lonely you’d been feeling. “I just need you to understand what you’re putting at stake.”

           “Wherever he is, when we find him, I’m coming. No matter what.”

[morningfears]

Hiking

Rating: PG-13 (Language, mostly)

Summary: College!Luke and hiking for the 10k celebration. 

Word Count: 2.1k (...this was supposed to be a drabble, whoops)

“Tell me why we’re doing this again.”

You listened to the crunch of gravel beneath Luke’s feet, a signal that he was rounding the car to meet you at the trunk, and bit back a laugh as you reached for the extra water bottle you’d packed because you knew that he was going to forget his own. He’d been whining since you picked him up, a pout on his lips and sunglasses perched on his nose, and you knew that he’d stop the moment you truly got annoyed with him.

For now, though, you were enjoying making fun of him just as much as he was whining.

“It was my turn to pick our activity. I like to hike.” You pressed the bottle into his hands, a saccharine smile on your lips, before you closed the trunk and shrugged. “I also like to see you miserable.”

He turned his head toward you, bright blue eyes hidden by the sunglasses he’d snagged from you years ago, and scowled. “You owe me pancakes for this. It’s so early.”

“It’s nearly ten, Luke.” He waved a hand dismissively when you scoffed, unashamed of his status as the late riser in your friendship, and leaned against the car to take a sip of his water. “Don’t drink too much. If you puke on me, I will murder you. No one will find your body up here.”

Luke snorted at that, his hands moving to tighten the cap on his water bottle before he waved them at the nearly full parking area. “There are literally fifty other people on this trail right now. Someone would find me.”

“Shut up and start moving, yeah?”

Luke breathed an exaggerated sigh and made a show of dragging his feet, sending dust and rocks flying in his wake, but followed you toward the trail. He was joking - that much he made clear when he cracked a grin at your laughter - and you knew that he had no intentions of making the hike miserable for either of you. He was annoyed to be awake so early on his only day off but there was no one he’d rather spend the day with.

And, besides, it wasn’t the first time he’d gone hiking with you.

The first time Luke went hiking with you, you were both freshmen in college and equally shy. You were a friend of a friend of a friend - Ashton was dating your roommate’s older sister - and had somehow gotten roped into going hiking with the group of them. It was Ashton’s idea, to drag all of you out to the middle of nowhere right before fall break, and Luke had only tagged along because Calum and Michael dragged him.

While you weren’t exactly the most social of the bunch, it was clear that you and Ashton were the only ones who’d actually hiked before. Whereas everyone else showed up in black, wearing various old band t-shirts and, in Michael’s bad judgement and mildly hungover case, jeans, the two of you wore actual gym gear and appropriate shoes. 

Luke quickly fell to the back of the pack, happy to be away from the chatter and the attention as he struggled up the mountain, and somewhere along the trip, you fell back with him. He knew that you were capable of beating them all up the mountain - and probably back down, if he had to wager a guess - but you kept pace with him and never even made a face at the sweat that made his t-shirt stick to his skin.

You were halfway up the mountain before either of you spoke - to everyone’s surprise, it was him; he complimented the All Time Low sticker on your water bottle - but it seemed as if neither of you knew how to shut up after that moment.

Your friendship formed quickly, bolstered by your commonalities and strengthened by your differences. If you weren’t in class or at work, you were at Luke’s. And if you weren’t there, the pair of you could usually be found elsewhere together.

When he moved into a frat house and you moved into an apartment, nothing changed. The brothers knew you, just as your roommates knew him, but your nearly nightly outings - to diners, to the movies, to the mall, to the park near campus - shifted to once a week activities that you took turns planning once you both delved deeper into your respective majors.

Luke was your best friend, just as you were his, and you were grateful for the strange hike that brought him into your life. That was, however, to everyone’s surprise, all that you were.

You had a small crush on Luke when you met - even drenched in sweat and struggling to keep himself upright, trudging up the side of a mountain he was cute - but the more you got to know him, the greater your crush grew. He was everything you’d always wanted, all wrapped in an adorable package, but you told yourself early on that you weren’t going to push; whatever happened with Luke, happened.

You knew, deep down, that Luke felt the same. You saw the way that he looked at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You saw the way he blushed when you complimented him or the way he grew flustered whenever anyone pointed out how cute the two of you would be together. Neither of you hid your feelings well but you were content to see where things went.

You always said that you’d rather have him in your life as just a friend than not at all.

Your line of thinking had recently undergone a bit of a shift. You were both approaching your senior year; two semesters away from the great unknown. Luke had plans to stay in the city and work for a record company. You were weighing your options to continue your education and considering leaving to give life elsewhere a shot.

It hurt, thinking that you’d be separated from Luke after so long of him being your only constant, but you knew that you either needed to make a move or move on.

“Alright, you haven’t said a word in almost a mile. Stop thinking, start talking.”

Luke’s words, said through huffs of air forced past his lips, broke you from your thoughts and you blinked when you noticed just how far down the trail you’d made it. You were glad you’d chosen one so familiar - the one you hiked the first time you met and found yourself returning to, time and time again - as you’d mostly relied on muscle memory to make it this far.

“Nothing to talk about. Just stressing over that Media Law final. Baker’s a dickhead and is going to make it unnecessarily difficult.” You knew that you should tell Luke the truth, spill your worries as you normally did, but you couldn’t force the words out.

It was easier this way, to continue on as you had for the past few years, and pretend that the heartache blossoming in your chest wasn’t real.

“Bullshit.” Luke stopped, nudged you to the side of the trail to let others pass, and met your eyes to search them. “That was your sad face. Baker gets the mad face. What’s up? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Of course I do, Luke.” The words fell past your lips readily, confident and clear, because you knew that. You knew that you could talk to Luke about absolutely anything and he would be there to listen. You knew that he’d never judge or laugh, not if it was a serious discussion, and that helped calm the raging sea of emotions in the pit of your stomach.

But nothing could quell the ache that settled in your bones when he looked at you the way he was.

He had a habit of looking at you like you were the one who hung the stars and moon. His eyes, usually unfocused as he zoned out, were clear and bright and shining with an admiration that rolled off him in waves. Whenever he looked at you like that, right in the eye, he always had a hand on you in some way. This time, he had one hand on your shoulder and the other cupping your cheek.

“What happens next May?”

Luke blinked, confused by the question. “Next May? After graduation?” When you nodded, your eyes flicking between his own and the sand beneath your feet, he shifted his weight and nodded slowly. “I’m staying here and you… You’re going to do something amazing. You might stay here, you might move to fucking Siberia. But whatever you do, you’re going to do it well because that’s just the kind of person you are, honey. You can’t half-ass anything, even if you try.”

Luke grinned when that got a small laugh but it was quickly replaced with a frown when you shook your head. “That’s not what I meant.” You trailed off, almost embarrassed to ask, before the words escaped your lips in a near whisper. “What happens to us?”

That was a question Luke had long considered. He, too, wondered what would happen to you both as you moved into the working world and farther away from one another. He wondered what would happen if you left the city. He wondered how he would continue on without seeing you every day.

And he realized that he didn’t want that.

“We’ll still be us,” he answered finally, his voice just as quiet as yours had been. “We’ll see each other every minute we can and if you decide to go somewhere else, we’ll FaceTime so much that we might as well just livestream our lives to each other. If you leave, I’ll come visit whenever I can and you know you’ll always have a place to stay with me if you want to come back. Nothing will change for us after graduation because I love you and I won’t let it.”

Before you could speak, before you could ask him if he really believed that was possible, Luke continued speaking.

“You know that I mean that in every sense of the word. You’re my best friend and I love you but you know that I also love you with a  capital ‘L’. Being friends with you is something I’d never change but I don’t want to spend our last guaranteed year together wondering what could be. I don’t want to just dream about kissing you, I want to actually kiss you. I want to wake up to you asking me to go hiking and kiss you to convince you to stay in bed. I want to hold your hand and wake up beside you every morning. I want to be the annoying couple everyone already thinks we are because it’s us. And it always has been.”

It felt as if a weight was lifted from your chest as Luke rambled, words spilling past his lips in a rush. He was passionate, certain, and braver than you ever could be. He took the first step, just when you were beginning to think neither of you would ever make it there, and the only way you could think to respond was with a kiss.

Pressing your lips to Luke’s didn’t send fireworks erupting across the sky nor did it feel as if the earth was going to shatter at your feet. It did, however, feel as if you were exactly where you were meant to be. You were wrapped in his arms, hands tangled in his curls, and nothing had ever felt more right.

You were upset that you’d wasted so much time, waiting for life to just happen. But, as you pulled away and rested your forehead against Luke’s, you decided that nothing else mattered anymore. The future, the one where you and Luke existed and everything else came as it would, was all that mattered.

Luke, with his bright grin and flushed cheeks, grabbed your hand and began tugging you back the way you’d come. With a laugh, you dug your heels into the ground and shook your head. “Nope. Finish hike first. Then, we go to my place and shower.”

“You’re going to make your boyfriend hike two more miles?”

“For every half mile you finish, I’ll give you a kiss.”

“Make it every quarter and I get to touch your butt.”

“Shut up and start hiking, Hemmings.”

With another grin in your direction, Luke returned his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose and kept his hand in yours as he tugged you along down the path. In the future, there would be more hikes and more kisses.

And neither of you could wait.

___________________________________

Author’s Note: ....there’s not as much hiking in this as I wanted but I got started and it, uh, had a mind of its own. Anyway, two fics in like a week? Who am I?