#and at some point down the line the good intentions get lost to his own ego and need for control

[the-casbah-way]

FINALLY finished my outline for prodigal son it’s going to end up way longer than i planned </3

[uronlywon]

INTENTIONAL OR UNINTENTIONAL? ; drabble ➤ overstimulation with hyung line + jungwon . . .

pairing .ᐟ hyung line + jungwon x afab!reader

contains .ᐟ dom!heeseung, soft dom!jay, dom!jake, mean dom!sunghoon, dom!jungwon, jay being husband material at the end, sunghoon being down right mean

warnings .ᐟ MINORS DNI, porn without plot, overstimulation, use of pet names (pretty, baby, love), riding (heeseung), praising (heeseung + jake), mentions of dacryphilia (sunghoon), jealous sex (jungwon), lmk if there’s more

vee's note .ᐟ i wrote this in about 2 hours at 4am (finished 6am)�� so if some parts don’t make sense, i’m sorry. feel free to tell me if there are any parts that i could improve a bit :D also you can kind of tell where my creativity plummets lmaoo

total wc .ᐟ [ 0.8k ]　　other works . . . masterlist ; read more !

LEE HEESEUNG (이희승) — intentional

I feel like Heeseung is the type to make you overstimulate yourself. You’d be riding him, and after your first orgasm, he’d tell you to keep going, “C’mon, pretty. Keep moving those hips f’me,” he’d say. Listening to his orders, you’d make an attempt to continue moving your hips on him, but due to the sensitivity you gained, your attempt was quite pathetic. “H..Hee, I can’t– ‘m tired..”, you whine, halting your movements to a stop. I just know he’d laugh at how fucked out you are. “Tired? You were just fine a minute ago, baby,” he teases, brushing the hair sticking to your face out of the way. “That’s fine, pretty, that’s why I’m here,” Heeseung continues, placing his warm hands on either side of your hip bones. “You look so gorgeous like this, Y/n. Could have you on my cock all day,” He would coo and end up moving your hips for you. ”That’s it, taking me so well, hm?”

━━━━━

other members ⬇️

PARK JONGSEONG (박종성) — intentional / unintentional

I’m a little bit on the fence for Jay. I can see him overstimulating you both intentionally and unintentionally in the same fuck session. He’d start off intentionally, pushing you a bit after your first orgasm, “Sorry, love, just a little bit more–”, he’d say this because he was trying to reach his own high, but to do that, you’d have to hang on a little longer. Passing that, he wouldn’t realise you’ve already had enough, making it to the point where you have to tell him to stop, “Ha-.. Jay! Can’t take anymore!”. I feel like he just wouldn’t realise how many more times you’ve came after the first time, if that makes sense, “Ah fuck– I’m sorry Y/n.” In the end Jay would apologise and give you literally the best aftercare. He’d always wipe you clean with a damp towel and run a warm bath for you. “You okay now? Does it hurt anywhere?” Jay would question, peppering you in soft kisses.

━━━━━

SIM JAEYUN (심재윤) — unintentional

Jake would be too lost in pleasure to realise you’d have already come. The man is like a dog in heat, not even kidding, “Fuuck Y/n, you f..feel so fucking good.” He’s the type to just continuously praise you while you fuck, which is partially the reason why he wouldn’t take notice of your desperate pleas for him to slow down. “Sensitive– Jake… Jake! P-please slow-..” You’d say, but he’s so busy praising you whilst he pounds into your used hole. It would take him a while to realise you’ve been begging him to tone it down a little, only realising when he feels the sensation of your nails digging deep into the flesh on his shoulders. “Oh god, I’m so fucking sorry, baby, I-I didn’t mean to hurt you,” He’d say after realisation hits, and he would continuosly apologise to you over and over again. “Y/n, I’m sorry about before–” “I already told you that I’m fine, Jake,” You’d laugh.

━━━━━

PARK SUNGHOON (박성훈) — intentional

Let’s be real, Sunghoon is the cruellest one out of everyone. He will definitely overstimulate you on purpose, and he isn’t even sorry about it, “Yeah– There you go Y/n, such a good little slut f’me, huh?” Sometimes, it would get so bad that you would be crying and begging him to stop, “Mmn! ‘t’s a..a lot, too much�� Ah!~ Hoonie!”. To be honest, I think he has a little dacryphilia. Just watching your tears streaming down your pretty face turns him on. He would coo and mock your begs, degrading you in the process, “You’re already crying? I’ve only made you come twice, how pathetic are you?” Sunghoon just seems like the type to be really mean during sex, dismissing all your begging and just continuing to fuck you into oblivion “N-no more Sunghoon, please!” “Who’s Sunghoon? I only know Hoonie. You’ll take whatever the fuck I give you.”

━━━━━

YANG JUNGWON (양정원) — intentional

Jungwon would sooo do it intentionally, and we all know that he is in fact a jealous guy based on the questions fans asked at fansigns. He’d have you pressed into the mattress of your shared bed after seeing you all over one of your guy friends, “You don’t touch your friends like that, huh?” He asked you, driving you to your 3rd orgasm of the night. Jungwon isn’t a mean dom, but I can see him intimidating you with his words. “Won ‘m sorry, p-please s-stop I can’t.. Can’t do another–” You’d apologise, then he’d scoff at you and start saying things in between thrusts. “Oh so now you’re sorry?” Thrust. “You sure didn’t seem sorry when you were all over that guy’s arm, yeah?” Thrust. “Surely you can give me another, Y/n. Isn’t that right? Thrust. He wasn’t going to falter, no matter how much you apologised or begged him to. “I-I really am sorry! A-ahn!”

LIKES ONLY GO SO FAR ! IF YOU LIKE IT, REBLOG IT.

©𝘶𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺𝘸𝘰𝘯, 2024 𝘈𝘓𝘓 𝘙𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘛𝘚 𝘙𝘌𝘚𝘌𝘙𝘝𝘌𝘋 | 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺, 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘦, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯. 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘥

[puckinghischier]

okay so…not that anyone asked but i have some…thoughts about this discourse surrounding jack’s signing last night

and honestly….i’m sad. i’m so insanely sad that so many people who claim to love this team are so quick to assume jack is a lost cause asshole. i think so much of it is entitlement. and yeah, as people, everyone deserve kindness and overall base level social behaviors. but where is that for jack right now?

where’s the grace and understanding that he’s tired. they likely had a day full of practice and drills and workouts before this signing. i mean, did he even get to go home before he was expected to sit and sign autographs for hours? why was he alone? why didn’t they put him with someone else? i know the answer is likely because he was the most sought after signature there and they didn’t want to make his line even longer, but still. i feel like jack has been very open and intentional with the fact he doesn’t like to do media. he wants to play hockey and go home.

and yeah, he also knew it came with the territory, but it doesn’t matter. if you sign up to be a teacher, you know there’s going to be early mornings, but that doesn’t mean you have to like getting up early. if you agree to work in healthcare, you know there’s going to aspects of the job that are gross and unfortunate, but it doesn’t mean you have to like cleaning up bodily fluids. the same can be said for these guys. they signed up to be professional hockey players, they knew media and signings and events were going to be expected of them, but it doesn’t mean they have to like it.

but back to entitlement thing. i think it has become so normalized to create personas for real people in our heads that people are quite literally unable to separate the fantasy from reality. and i mean, i’ll even say i contribute to the problem. all fanfic writers do. we create these idealized and fictional versions of these men, but the ability to differentiate between the two cannot be lost in the process. but i think it has been. i think there’s this unrealistic expectation thrust upon all of them, but especially jack.

he’s popular, he’s cutie, and he’s good at hockey. of course he’s going to have a mass following. but…he’s just a guy, y’all. he’s a guy that has bad days, good days, who gets tired, who has a social battery. and last night, i think that social battery had just run out. do you know how long he’s been watched and in the media? do you know how long he’s been the most watched hughes, the expectations he’s carried on him for years?

i just think there needs to be some compassion and grace here. going back to the whole “people pay to watch me play” incident is a little excessive, imo. i mean, are we going to hold every single player to everything they’ve ever said in the box? does it define who they are and their character? i have not once seen anyone berate and question quinn’s character when he told someone they were “fucking nothing”. which, if you really want to get down to it, is worse than what jack said.

but no, jack is expected to be this guy with rainbows coming out of his ass all the time, apparently. i think the concept of social cues and situational awareness has been so lost because of the screen culture right now. people do so much communication through screens and phones that they forget, people aren’t always enthusiastic and bright, even if they add an exclamation point to their text. last night was not something jack chose to do of his own accord. he was told to do it, and he did it. he made sure the kids had a good time and felt cared for. he signed everything that came across his table. could he have been a little more chatty? yeah. could he have maybe smiled a bit more? yeah.

but seriously, he knew he was going to have to sign a million different items and see a million different people. the whole point of a signing is just that. if he was even remotely going to get out of there on time, there’s no way he could have had any meaningful conversation with every single person. and i feel like he’s said before he prioritizes/likes kids? i could be wrong, so don’t hold me to that.

but the point is, this whole situation is so sad and such a good example of how gossip blogs only care about getting likes and reblogs and attention. they don’t care about these players, no matter how much they claim to. and people are so quick to take everything they read for fact. personally, i think jack is just…antisocial.

i think he has a persona on the ice because he’s in his element, he’s comfortable, and he’s excited to be there. when he’s with his family and around his friends, he seems to be an overall happy guy. but around strangers? strangers that want to talk about his stats, how he played in this game or that game, that are shoving their items in his face to sign, people that he’ll likely never see again? he doesn’t give too much away.

and before people mention the being snippy and short with the workers, i wasn’t there so i didn’t see what happened. if he was, i’m not defending that behavior, but i don’t think it’s because he thinks he’s above them or thinks he’s “god’s gift to hockey” like i’ve seen thrown around so much today. we have all been snappy with people we shouldn’t have before. it doesn’t mean someone is this terrible person with a high horse attitude. i think it’s a combination of fatigue, stress, and maybe even some anxious energy that had been built up and made its way out.

anyways, i’ve said enough i think, and this will be the first and only time i talk about this, but i had too many thoughts swirling in my brain to just keep them there. be nice. show grace. you’re allowed to be disappointed if you attended last night and felt like he was maybe dry and dismissive, but please step back and put yourself in his shoes. not every person has a social and yappy personality. some people don’t speak unless they have something to say. and that’s okay!!!

and for the love of god, quit giving gossip blogs what they so desperately crave

[sirenizer]

The Warm Embrace

[part 2] [part 3]

The cool wind brushed against your sweat-soaked skin, offering brief relief. The Grand Line’s weather was always extreme, and tonight’s heat was no exception. Excited for your night watch, you ascended toward the crow’s nest. It had been a while since you’d spent time with Izo, both of you caught up in pirate duties. And when it wasn’t work, it seemed someone else always claimed Izo’s time. So, even though you were exhausted, you eagerly took this shift to be with him.

That’s why disappointment hit hard when, instead of Izo in his usual kimono, you found a shirtless newbie lounging in the nest.

"Yo," he greeted casually, before turning his attention back to the sea.

You frowned. "This is supposed to be Izo's shift. What are you doing here?"

Ace, still staring out over the water, replied, "Well, after winning the drinking contest with the others, he’s out cold. So Marco asked me to take over." His nonchalant attitude irritated you, but you swallowed the feeling. Suddenly, he glanced back at you, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"What? Spill it," you demanded, narrowing your eyes. Marco had warned you about Ace’s mischief, and that grin was never a good sign.

"Oh, it’s nothing," he said, shrugging, the smirk growing wider. "Just wondering if you're not cold in that."

You looked down at your bikini top and denim shorts. Normally, you felt confident in your body, but under Ace’s teasing gaze, insecurity prickled at you. "Temperature might be just numbers to you, Fire Fist, but for the rest of us, it's hot tonight," you shot back, turning away.

"It does seem hot," he commented, his voice laced with amusement.

Your cheeks flushed as you glared at him. Ace was fanning himself lazily, clearly unaffected by the warmth. Not wanting to prolong the exchange, you grabbed the telescope and focused on the horizon, trying to cool down both from the heat and your annoyance. You hadn’t spent much time with Ace, aside from brief chats during meals or helping heal his wounds when he first arrived. You’d watched him from a distance—his bright, fiery nature was almost intimidating.

Lost in thought, you found yourself longing for something sweet and cool. "I could go for some watermelon right now," you mumbled to yourself.

"I can get that for you." His sudden offer startled you.

You blinked. "What?"

"You said you wanted watermelon, right?" He seemed impatient now, waiting for your reply. When you nodded, unsure of his intentions, he grinned. "Let’s eat together." And before you could react, he leaped out of the window.

You rushed to the edge, looking down just in time to see him land gracefully and head toward the kitchen. A small smile crept onto your face—maybe spending time with him wouldn’t be so bad after all.

It wasn’t long before Ace returned, carrying two plates piled with watermelon slices.

"I used to eat watermelon with my younger brother on summer nights," he said, handing you a plate.

"You have a brother?"

"Yeah, a younger brother. His name’s Luffy." There was a pause, and then he added with a fond chuckle, "Luffy, the guy who’s going to be Pirate King—that’s how he always introduces himself."

You smiled at his affection. "Aiming for the Pirate King’s throne, huh? I like his ambition."

Ace laughed, then launched into stories from his childhood. His tales flowed freely, and you soon found yourself sharing stories of your own, talking about how you joined this crew and recounting some of Marco’s more comical moments. Conversation came easily between you two, and the tension from earlier melted away.

Suddenly, Ace stopped mid-sentence, staring intently out of the window. "Is that… an island?" he asked, pointing at a small dot on the dark horizon.

You grabbed the telescope and scanned the distance. Sure enough, there it was. "Yeah, it’s an island. We should inform the navigator."

Without hesitation, Ace grabbed the small snail communicator and notified the crew. The ship slowly adjusted course, heading toward the unknown island. Silence settled between you, a comfortable excitement filling the air as you both anticipated the adventure ahead.

"Achoo!" You sneezed as a biting gust of wind swept through the nest. Ace shot you a smug look, clearly enjoying his earlier prediction coming true.

You scowled, ignoring him, and reached for a shawl from the nearby cupboard. But the cold seemed to creep under your skin, no matter how tightly you wrapped it around yourself. The wind was icy, and with each breath, you could see small clouds of white steam escaping your lips. You huddled deeper into the shawl, seeking warmth.

Ace, meanwhile, seemed completely unfazed by the cold, still gazing out over the sea with a relaxed expression. You couldn’t help but stare at him. His tousled hair fluttered in the breeze, and for a moment, you were captivated. His sharp eyes sparkled in the dim light, his freckles dotted his face like constellations, and his cracked lips glistened as he moistened them with his tongue. You found yourself soaking in every detail.

Noticing your gaze, Ace turned his head, his eyes locking with yours. Embarrassed, you quickly looked away, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Cold?" you asked, trying to cover your flustered state with a casual question.

Ace smirked. "A little. Want to share that shawl?"

Your heart raced at his teasing tone, but before you could stop yourself, you scooted closer, allowing him to slip under the shawl with you. Sitting shoulder to shoulder, warmth spread from where your bodies touched, though your other side still shivered from the cold.

Another gust of wind made you shiver involuntarily. "Maybe we should head back down…" you muttered, but a part of you resisted, wanting to hold on to this quiet moment.

Ace noticed your shivering and suddenly said, "Come here." He opened his arms, and before you could think twice, you found yourself leaning into his chest. His body was a furnace, the heat seeping into your skin and chasing away the chill. His arms wrapped around you, pulling the shawl tighter as you rested your head against him.

"Feeling better?" he asked, his voice a low murmur near your ear.

"Mmhmm," you hummed, already feeling your eyelids grow heavy. The steady warmth and the soft rocking of the ship lulled you into a comfortable drowsiness. It could’ve been the exhaustion from the recent mission, or maybe it was Ace’s comforting presence—either way, sleep came easily.

"Idiot," Ace whispered with a fond smile, watching as your breathing evened out. The dark circles under your eyes hadn’t escaped his notice earlier, and he was glad to see you finally resting.

When you stirred awake later, the sky was still dark. You felt something warm and solid pressed against you and, for a moment, panic fluttered in your chest. But then you looked up, seeing Ace’s calm face, still gazing out the window.

"You didn’t wake me?" you asked groggily, rubbing at your eyes.

You tried to sit up, but Ace’s arms tightened around your waist, pulling you back against him. "Go back to sleep," he murmured, his voice gentle. Despite your initial protest, you found yourself melting back into his embrace. His warmth was impossible to resist.

Ace radiated a sense of peace and security, something you’d only felt with a few people in your life. His presence was calming, grounding, and before long, you were drifting back into a peaceful sleep, nestled safely against him.

The cold wind outside contrasted with the warmth inside the shared shawl as you drifted back into sleep, feeling Ace’s steady breathing against your back. The night was still young, and the soft creaks of the ship moving through the waves created a lullaby that added to the calmness of the moment.

When you woke again, it was much later. The first traces of dawn painted the sky a muted gray, and the air felt calmer, though still chilly. This time, you stirred more awake, shifting slightly in Ace’s arms, realizing just how tightly you had curled into him.

His voice, low and steady, broke the quiet. "Morning already?" He didn’t sound sleepy, and you wondered how long he’d stayed awake while you slept.

You shifted a little more, trying to sit up without disturbing the closeness that had developed between you during the night. "How long was I out?"

"A while," Ace replied, his tone light, almost teasing. "You really knocked out. You didn’t even budge when the others called about adjusting course for the island."

You blinked, surprised. "They didn’t wake me up?"

He chuckled softly. "I told them not to. You looked like you needed it." His arms loosened around you, but he didn’t fully let go. His body was still warm against the morning chill, and part of you didn’t want to move just yet.

A warm blush spread across your cheeks as you realized how cozy you had gotten in his arms. It wasn’t like you to feel so vulnerable around someone new, especially a pirate with the reputation Ace carried. But there was something about him, something disarming. His warmth wasn’t just physical; it radiated from his personality, from the ease with which he could talk about his past, laugh about dreams, and invite you into his world. The way he held you now—secure but not possessive—only reinforced that feeling.

"I guess I owe you for letting me sleep in," you muttered, breaking the silence.

He grinned. "Nah, just make sure you share more of that shawl next time." His playful smirk was back, but this time it felt different—more familiar, less mischievous.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling in return. Pulling away, you finally stood up, stretching and feeling the stiffness in your muscles from the long night’s rest. Ace followed suit, standing and cracking his neck with a lazy grin.

The ship’s movement felt more purposeful now, and when you looked out the window, the island Ace had spotted last night was much clearer on the horizon. It was still distant, but the promise of adventure lay ahead. The soft glow of dawn reflected off the water, casting everything in a quiet, golden light.

"So," you began, glancing back at Ace. "You up for some island exploration?"

He crossed his arms, the familiar smirk playing on his lips again. "Of course. Wouldn’t miss it."

The wind picked up slightly as you both descended from the crow’s nest, the rest of the crew now stirring below deck. You could hear faint chatter and the clanking of dishes as breakfast preparations began. The ship was alive with anticipation for what lay ahead on the mysterious island.

As you made your way across the deck, Ace walking beside you, the comfortable silence between you was broken only by the occasional flutter of sails or creak of wood. You felt a sense of ease—something that hadn’t been there before. Maybe it was the time spent together last night, or maybe it was the quiet understanding that had formed between you two.

Once inside the galley, the warm smell of food filled the air. The crew greeted you both with nods and smiles, though a few eyebrows raised in curiosity at the sight of you together. You could feel their teasing stares, but no one said anything directly.

"Morning, you two," Marco said, giving Ace a knowing look. His tone was casual, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

Ace shrugged nonchalantly. "Just keeping watch, as requested."

"Right," Marco smirked before turning back to his breakfast. "Well, you both should fuel up. We’ll be hitting the island soon."

The meal was simple but hearty—eggs, bread, and some fruit. As you ate with Ace beside you, you found yourself stealing glances at him. He was more relaxed now, chatting with the crew as if last night had changed something for him, too. He no longer seemed like just the newcomer or the notorious Fire Fist. Instead, there was a growing sense of camaraderie between you, a connection that felt like the beginning of something deeper.

After breakfast, preparations for the landing began. The ship’s anchor was lowered, and you and the crew began organizing supplies for the island exploration. The morning sun was now climbing higher in the sky, burning away the last traces of dawn. As the boat slowed near the island’s shore, excitement buzzed through the crew.

"You ready?" Ace asked, coming up behind you as you stood near the edge of the ship, watching the island grow closer. His voice held that same mix of playfulness and seriousness that was quickly becoming familiar to you.

"Always," you said, turning to meet his gaze. His eyes sparkled with that familiar fire, but this time, there was a softness there too, a quiet understanding of everything that had passed between you during the night watch.

As the crew prepared to disembark, you and Ace ended up side by side again, this time sharing more than just a shawl or a quiet night in the crow’s nest. There was an unspoken bond forming between you, one that neither of you had fully acknowledged yet, but it was there—undeniable, growing, like the adventure that awaited you on the shores of the island.

[goldsbitch]

Hypochondria

part 2

Fate decided to play a little game and set up a disastrous dinner. Pulling heatwaves back and forth to prove that the path to hell is paved by good intentions.

warning: non-linear time line

21:10

"I'm sorry, but do you guys know each other?" she asked, with a tone of annoyance barely hidden behind a fake smile.

Lando froze once again, like he had many times that evening. It was not his fault. His soon-to-not-be girlfriend set this seventh circle of hell up. How was he supposed to respond to that?

Y/N hesitantly responded. "No, of course not. I mean, I've only worked with the team here for few weeks anyway."

Her words got buried in the stare down between Anita and Lando.

"Seems like you do, by the amount of questions you're asking" she said directly at Lando, fully ignoring Y/N at that point.

"If I had known her, I would not have had to ask questions, right?" he responded, failing at letting his sassy side dormant.

"Is that why you never ask me any questions? Because you know me?"

He bit his tongue. Lando was trying to be good.

Anita made her signature "I knew it" smile once again, which finally set Lando off.

"One asks when they want to hear an answer."

20:13

He was not late, right? Only thirteen minutes. It still passed. And judging by the quick glance he gave at the table, Anita brought a friend. She does that often, he had no idea why.

Sometimes he felt like a ghost watching his own life. Just sort of floating around, letting things happen to him. It was easy with his status. Almost like racing was the only time he really cared.

As he walked over to the table, lost in his own head, life gave him a pretty big slap to wake him up. Next to Anita sat the one and only, the one who had haunted his dreams and reality for decades by now. Frozen, as if his blood suddenly decided to start flowing in the opposite direction, he blinked as he watched the two share a laugh while Anita showed something to the girl on her phone. Seamlessly, as if they weren't defying the laws of Lando's universe. It was like that one time when two girls he kissed around the same time found him, having no idea what he had done with the other. Strange panic, excitement laced with guilt. It was that, dialed up to infinity.

A day had barely passed since he first saw the mystery girl in real time. Without giving him any time to absorb that information and decide what to do with it. He was getting angry, everything was going wrong. The painful truth hit him - he would fuck it up anyway. Like he always does. Feeling like a dried piece of fruit, he got back to walking over to the table of doomed dreams.

He had no plan going in. Well, no, he did. But he had about five plans that strongly contradicted each other. But god, destiny did not even give him time to breathe.

12:29

Another car flashed unbelievably fast right next to their station. She watched them with awe and slight terror in her eyes. Funny how the desire for a little thrill in the driver's lives makes them willing to risk it all. She understood this desire, but never shared it. Safe and sound on the ground, that's where she was happy.

Happy was probably overreaching. These past few days were flowing in a blur, somewhat missing her.

It's been only a few weeks since she joined the formula medical team. A strange choice frowned upon by almost anyone in her life. She was just out of school, finished her degree and was set up for a perfect career in some decent hospital. But no, the prospect of waking up everyday at the same place was the definition of horror for her. Her university years felt like torture.

Her free spirit caused few issues in her past relationship. House with a picket fence was not something she considered an option. At least not for another ten years or so.

There she was, sarcastic as ever because how else are you supposed to deal with a chronic pain. Well, pain was an exaggeration. More like muscle fatigue, on occasion sharp pains in random places. Nobody knew why or what caused it. This search for answers was what got her to study medicine at the first place. Still, years after, no answers. So she just lived and hoped not to die randomly one day.

This was the downside, the one she shared with the public. What she did not share, as it seemed not that important, was the irregular waves of pleasure she felt, usually late at night. Self induced orgasms, is what she concluded once she finally experienced one in real life. What was there to complain about? Nice way of spicing up the day without even trying. If it weren't for these, she'd probably be more active in seeking out the real deal. Ever since her break up few months ago, it was a full on dry spell.

She was a little bit lost after school. Formula track was an interesting distraction.

/

Heatwave. It hit hard as the sun blazed into the track, as if the goal was to burn the whole area down. There were many instances of people crashing down and having seek medical attention. A busy day for Y/N. She loved it. Rushing around like a busy bee, helping around and chatting with all those interesting people attending the race. Lots of beautiful people. Some extraordinarily.

In front of Y/N was one of those heavenly looking people. Apparently a girlfriend of one of the drivers. Cheerful looking model, who apologized about seven times for being there. Y/N gave her some magnesium, gave her some advice on how much water she should drink and checked her basic stats.

"You're all good. Make to sure to relax, don't drink any alcohol today and you'll be fine," Y/N ended her examination with a smile.

"You're amazing, thank you! Can I snap a photo of you for my story? I'm happy to tag you," she winked, suddenly looking all better now.

"Thank you...Um, happy to take a photo, but no tags. I have enough stalkers already," she tried to get out of the slightly awkward conversation with a joke that did not land.

"I do too, awful, right?" she replied, in full seriousness. Y/N smiled, hoping a new patient would arrive soon while she let her search for the right light. Few too many snaps and fake smiles later, they both sat in the ambulance nearby the track.

"I think you're free to go. Of course, stay here as long as you feel like you need to," Y/N said to her, while filling a general medical report.

The girl shifted, looking more than fine again. In the corner of the eye, Y/N observed how she kept shifting and looking for her phone.

"Is everything all right?" Y/N asked, unable to stop herself.

"Um, I was sort of hoping my boyfriend would come to pick me up here. It would look really good."

Y/N smiled. "I imagine it would also feel good, right?"

"Yeah," she said, not in a tone that would suggest she felt any butterflies. She looked stiff.

Y/N took a deep breath, not sure why her mouth let those words out. "Whatever happens in the ambulance, stays in the ambulance, you know? Just throwing it out there in case you want to share something..."

A weak smile appeared on her face. A glimpse of realness. After few moments of obviously thinking it through, she allowed herself to speak freely. "Promise you won't tell anything to anyone..."

"I swore an oath one time, I think we can apply that to this situation." The medics were always told to provide excellent service to these people. Sometimes, it involved a little psychology as well.

Anita poured it out like an overflowing mug. "I'd love to be with someone who would drop anything to pick me up when I'm sitting in an ambulance. But, I feel like that's not coming anytime soon. He just...He just does not see me."

It was easy for most people to get raw in the closed safe space of an ambulance. Y/N had already heard many similar stories, despite being on this job for only few weeks.

"Does he make you happy?"

"Um...Not really. The sex is good. And the life that comes with him..." she seemed to loose herself in her thoughts.

"You should trust your gut. It's probably pointing you in the right direction," Y/N replied, trying to not push anything.

"You're probably right. He's the best thing around here, so why complain. Thanks! You're really the best. You sure you don't want to be tagged?" she asked once again.

"Sure, go for it," she said, hoping this would finally get the girl out and gave her the instagram info.

She felt an immense wave of embarrassment as she read the comment about how amazing she was.

//

Lando felt a very familiar stroke of humiliation - well, he did not, but he knew who did anyway. Anxiety was not uncommon.

He was done with practice for the day and was staying behind with the engineers to further analyse. He ignored his phone for a while, only finding out his girlfriend had to go to the medics after she came back to the McLaren garage.

His first thought should have probably not been about a wasted opportunity.

"Hey, sweetheart, how do you feel now?" he said while holding Anita's hand and trying to find traces of her feeling unwell on her face.

She felt a bittersweet punch, obviously him checking up on her while she was gone not passing through his mind.

"Yeah, all good now. We have some good medics over here. I took a photo of them, so hopefully they'll get some boost online."

"Oh, can I have a look?" he said with an obvious interest. She smiled, hoping it was because he cared about her. She gave him her phone and saw him freeze for a moment.

Out of nowhere, he was staring into the eyes he longed to drown in. He never got a look this close at her. Not his girlfriend. The awkward smile he understood as if it was his own. It was like being taken over by a tidal wave. He knew everything about her, except her name. It was all really overwhelming.

20:15

Lando should have connected the dots. Anita was a bubbly friendly person, of course she would invite someone who had helped her, over to dinner, in case he himself does not show up due to some unforeseen circumstances. He sat down, without saying a word. "Oh, you're here, amazing!" Anita greeted him with a light peck on the cheek. Lando almost flinched away, physical contact with her suddenly feeling wrong. He kept his eyes down on the table, all of this being a little too much. "Lando, meet Y/N."

Finally. A name to a face. Strong sense of relief and excitement washed over him. Of course it was that name, it suited her vibe completely. The best name. He finally looked up and locked eyes with her for the first time. She was already looking at him and visibly gulped as finally joined her.

These few seconds before the silence got broken were more like hours. They both studied each other like astronomers who get absorbed by the beauty of a distant comet. One they'd only read about and one that's finally passing the sky in their lifetime.

"And Y/N, this is Lando-"

She knew his face, of course she did. But never paid much attention to it, as he served more like a concept, than an actual person to her. Sitting across from him however brought a sense of understanding. No wonder everyone liked him and many people obsessed over him. He was gorgeous, electric. Y/N was grateful for the table that put a physical barrier between them, as the urge to touch him, to test if he was real, overtaking her brain quickly. Like a siren luring her to jump into endlessly deep waters. She had a hard time believing that she would refuse. Her one and only thought was that a person like that is born once in a century.

Except that's not exactly true. But unbeknownst to her, they were soulmates. She was destined to be eternally delusional about him. He was fated to dance around her until the end of time.

"-my boyfriend."

Anita's words cut through like knife. Both of her dinner partners shifted, as if she had splashed them with cold water, and returned back to reality. A great cloud of guilt sat on the fourth empty chair, which the waiters forgot to take away, invisible to Anita, but smiling evilly at Y/N and Lando. And they hadn't even said a word to each other yet.

part 3

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Imagining a scene where, before deciding to leave with Color, Color just keeps showing up sometimes wherever Killer in Stage 2 is having “down time” after or before a mission.

And Killer just keeps shooing the guy away, disappearing on him whenever Color looks away. Walking away mid conversation whenever he decides hes done entertaining Color’s little “game.” Ignoring any food or offers of new clothes Color tries to give him—“I don’t eat.” “Your body has to eat sometime.” “I don’t care. And I don’t care about you.”

Color always leaves when hes told to, not wanting to push Killer too far and keep intruding on his time and privacy, but I can picture a scene where Killer’s like, “I know you’re obsessed with me, but I don’t take in strays, firefly. Get lost, before I put out those flames of yours.” And Color raises a brow and glances down at Killer’s feet where a herd of purring stray cats are rubbing against his legs.

And I don’t know, as they grow closer and spend more time together (of course Stage 2 will not recognize any possible genuine connection or emotions, everything he does he rationalizes away as beneficial or just maintaining a resource), Color slowly but surely becomes one of Killer’s “red lines”—his boundary.

A part of Killer starts considering Color as something similar to his, and thus something to keep secret and guarded—same as with his weapons, same as with his room, same as with his mind and his privacy and his business.

Color is one of those topics Killer thinks no one else has the right to know about. Killer even finds himself slowly but surely giving away some bits of his own secrets—Color took a pinky swear to not tell a soul—or a heart. Their moments belong only to them.

Until, of course, Murder rather uncharacteristically makes a provoking comment about something he shouldn’t know and doesn’t have the right to know, and Killer, gets..aggressive. Starts desperately trying to regain control.

Either physically or verbally (or both), he starts viciously tearing into Murder—talking about Papyrus, bringing up Toriel, asking if he enjoyed killing Monster Kid or was he the tormented hero instead? Or perhaps he was just the filthy, dirty brother killer, gleefully and delusionally believing himself a savior. Poor, poor Sans—hes just so ashamed.

But at least he isn’t Killer. Yes he murdered everyone too and sometimes even enjoyed it, but it was for a good reason! He feels ashamed, he feels guilty, as if it will wash the sins off his back.

Of course Murder has to get his own licks in—neither leave this confrontation well put together. Murder mocks Killer for his own hypocrisy. Pointing out how hes spent all this time convincing Murder and Horror to just give up and stop fighting, that there’s no point hoping for change or escape—actively dragging Murder back kicking and screaming—only it seems Nightmare’s little pet is considering leaving!

All because of some petty emotions. All because some guy he barely knows smiled at him.

Murder wonders what Nightmare would think, and Killer lunges at him, and that’s when they get physical. Ultimately Nightmare has to break them up because they’re probably fighting with intent to kill, because Killer is unusually, uncharacteristically angry. Almost Stage 3 levels of angry, with his SOUL starting to ‘glitch’ over his chest.

Nightmare can tell that Murder somehow did or said something to make Killer feel genuinely cornered or threatened, but Horror steps in—offering a cover story. Nightmare knows he’s lying, but possibly finds the attempts to hide things from him in his own home amusing.

So nonetheless, he allows it to slide for now—telling Horror to take Murder to the infirmary, and commanding Killer to “follow.” It’s the typical scene where Killer obeys, following immediately, likely glares at and shoulder checks Murder on the way past, grinning when Murder stumbles into Horror.

(Maybe there’s even a little talk between Horror and Murder in the infirmary, because Murder doesn’t usually go out of his way to provoke Killer so blatantly.

He usually just avoids Killer, wary of him. And Murder, well, he just wanted the other “monster” to feel even a smidge of what Killer makes him feel. It won’t matter, it won’t change anything, but it felt good.)

Killer likely confronts Murder is his own room again—ambushing him as soon as the door closes, knife to his throat—wanting Murder to feel unsafe in a familiar place, a place that’s supposed to be his only.

Killer is under orders by Nightmare to not kill any of others unless told to, everyone knows that. Killer says he’s all too willing to demonstrate how well he can work around that, and unless Murder wants to be an example, he’ll back off.

Murder comments that he’s oddly invested in this person for someone who claims to be incapable of emotions. He must really care about that guy.

Killer stares for a few moments, unblinking. Something glitters in his right eye socket, faint and sputtering, before dying out as his signature empty grin overtakes his features. His SOUL gradually starts to calm down, spinning slowly as it reforms back into its target shape, still beating like a frantic human heartbeat. More red than white.

He itches to snap the prey’s neck, make sure it stays silent forever. Instead, he slams Murder’s head back against the bedroom door with a loud thud, letting the skeleton fall to the floor in stunned, dazed silence.

“I don’t.” Is all he says, dead and matter of fact, as he steps over his coworker’s crumbled form, opens the door, and casually walks right out.

He’s back to normal by the morning, greeting Horror and Murder with that same grin and teasing remarks; rambling about something or another, as if it all never happened.

But the message is all too clear: Color is off limits.

[carefreecoffee]

Flufftober Day 22: Bookstore date w/ Shinsou Hitoshi

Word count 1.3k, Gender-Neutral reader

When you started dating Hitoshi, one thing you weren’t expecting was for him to be somewhat of a book lover– a connoisseur if you will. You knew he was usually always quiet and reserved but it was also nice to hear you and him had something in common. With that information, you decided to go on an impromptu with the lilac haired boy, walking the streets and figuring out where the bookstore you had researched beforehand was.

Had you put too much thought into this? Maybe. But it's the thought that counts right?

You point to the bookstore ahead, “Ooo ooo, there it is!” Your excitement seems to filter into Shinsou as a grin widens onto his face. “Never took you for a book person, y/n”

You shrug, “Didn't expect it out of you either, ‘Tosh” You return his grin as he opens the store's door to you. As you stepped through the door, a pleasant scent of books and paper filled the air. The shop was small yet cozy with rows of bookshelves filled with an assortment of titles. The soft light from the overhead fixtures created a warm and inviting atmosphere.

Once inside, Shinsou looked around at the various shelves, feeling a sense of calmness wash over him. He continued to hold your hand as you began to wander down the aisles, scanning the spines of the books.

You browsed the collections keenly, only letting go of Shinsou’s hand to pick up some books of your own, checking their prologues. Shinsou watched as you browsed through the books, your eyes scanning each spine intently. He couldn't help but find you endearing as you got lost in the world of the written word. After a few moments, he finally spoke up, "See anything you like so far?"

You swerve your head to him, handling about three books in your grasp already. “Hm i like these ones” You show him the different books, explaining their plots as you went along.

Shinsou looked at the books you had picked up, nodding in approval. "Those are some great choices. You seem to have a good taste in literature." You grin, “Aw thanks,” clutching the books back onto your chest, you peeked at the one he was holding. “What'd you get?”

Shinsou held up a thin book in his hand, "I picked up this one. It's about the history of the Heroics occupation." You perk up the title. “Woah cool” you take the book glancing at it and its contents curiously before nodding, “You should totally get that one!”

Seeing your nod of approval, Shinsou smiled slightly, "If you think it's worth getting, then I will." He walked over to the cashier to purchase the book, leaving you to continue browsing through the shelves. After a few minutes, Shinsou returned with the newly purchased book in hand. He found you still browsing through the bookshelves, walking up behind you as he leaned over your shoulder to get a better look at what you were looking at.

"Any other books that you're interested in?" He asked, his voice almost a whisper directly into your ear. You flinch slightly at his unexpected appearance before peering up at him, your eyes meeting his lilac ones. “Mmm nah, just browsing now. I'm gonna buy these three.” You point to the three currently stuffed between your arms.

Shinsou smiled gently at your movements, amused by your reaction. He nodded at your choice of books. "Those are some good picks. You sure you don't want to grab anything else?" You give him a quick shake of the head before advancing towards the register. Shinsou followed behind you, still carrying his own book. He watched as you placed the three books on the counter, waiting for the cashier to scan them.

While the two of you waited for the cashier to finish scanning the books, Shinsou turned to you and spoke. "So, what do you want to do next now that we're done here?" You think for a moment before nodding towards the soft benches that had lined the windows. “Hm let's sit and read for a while, yeah?” Shinsou nodded in agreement.

The two of you made your way over to the benches, sitting next to each other as you shared a neighboring table. Shinsou had placed the thin book he had purchased next to him before looking over at you. He smiled softly as he watched you take a seat next to him, your books neatly placed upon your lap.

"I guess we'll be getting lost in our books for a while." You nod excitedly at his statement, opening your book, letting out a content sigh.

Shinsou chuckled faintly at your excitement and let out a soft sigh of his own as he leaned back against the soft fabric of the bench. He opened the book he had purchased and began reading, losing himself in the words on the pages. The only sounds breaking the silence were the occasional flipping of pages and the distant murmur of people passing by outside.

As time passed, Shinsou found himself completely engrossed by the book, his mind immersed in the world of history and heroes. He unconsciously leaned a bit closer to you, still reading his book while occasionally stealing glances in your direction, enjoying the company. You lean into him, finding the atmosphere rather comforting, especially when you were engrossed in such an activity with your lover.

Shinsou smiled faintly as he felt you lean on him slightly, the proximity making his heart beat just a little faster. He continued to read his book, but his mind was now partly occupied with your presence. As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the bookstore, Shinsou glanced at the sunlight hitting your face, making your skin glow a soft golden color. He couldn't help but admire the way the light danced in your eyes as you read, the image making his stomach flutter slightly.

“Y'know i can feel you staring, Tosh” You glance at him, a sheepish smile adorning your face. His eyes widened in surprise for a moment, realizing that he had been caught staring. He couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed at being caught red-handed, but he quickly recovered copying the sheepish grin. "Was I really that obvious?" You lean into him more with a low hum, “Very, i could practically feel it piercing through me”

Shinsou chuckled softly at your jest, feeling his heart skip a beat. He placed his hand gently around your shoulder, enjoying the proximity. "Sorry, I couldn't help it. You looked too beautiful with the sun hitting your face like that." You thwack him playfully, “Oh shush”

Shinsou chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "What? It's the truth. I can't help it if you're so captivating. I'm only being honest here." You roll your eyes, taking a glance outside. “Well you're right about one thing, the suns settin’ faster now. Should we get goin'?” Shinsou glanced out the window, noticing that the sky was indeed growing darker. He closed his book and placed it on his lap before nodding. "Yeah, you're right. It's getting late. We should get going before the sun fully sets."

He stood up from the bench, holding a hand out to you. You take it gratefully within yours, placing your books within your arm as the two of you exited the shop. Shinsou held firmly onto your hand, the cool evening air hitting them instantly as they continued down the empty sidewalk. Shinsou looked up at the sky, noticing how the vibrant hues of orange and purple were starting to fill the evening sky. "Looks like we picked the perfect time to leave. The sunset's going to be beautiful tonight."

You nod, examining how the stars littered the sky evenly.”It is, isn't it?” Shinsou looked at you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he took in your gaze. The orange light from the setting sun hit your face perfectly, creating a beautiful glow that made his heart flutter.

"It is," he repeated quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "It really is."

[rwbyrg]

Hello again! I was wondering, in your own opinion, what moment(s) for both Oscar and Ruby, really implied that there was much more going on with the two character, in the sense that their relationship was starting to evolve? Also what do you like about those moments? To add, do you think we will see it much more in volume 10?

Hello!! I think, generally speaking, all of their focused scenes imply there's more going on or that their relationship is evolving in some way. RWBY doesn't have filler. So when characters - especially ones as central to the narrative as these two - get focused screen time together (and romance-y tropes), it's done with intention.

Ruby's arc is about many things, but especially about how she's pretty much the last silver eyed warrior that can face Salem. Meanwhile, Oscar's arc is about defining who he is while under a curse that robs him of his identity. And in their first meeting, Oscar comments on Ruby's eyes, and she asks him who he is. Even their first lines to each other are mirrored in how they're spoken!

This scene really shows that their character arcs linked from the very beginning.

We get all the stuff I mentioned in my last post and more and none of it is necessary to do if it's not building up to something. Which it very clearly is.

I have no doubts we'll get to see more of their shared story in V10 onward. The V9 epilogue - what was supposed to be the final episode of the season - works as both a closing point for the Atlas arc, and a kick off for the Vacuo one. It's setting the stage for what is to come. A non-extensive list of what we know we're getting so far:

Nora's and Winter's character arcs; both of them struggling with responsibility, grief, and guilt.

Weiss will almost certainly be getting some focus by extension of that as well. Especially because her arc has always been about her family.

Ren being more open and trying harder to support those around him.

Qrow, more hopeful than he's ever been before and how much it's propelling him forward.

And then we have Oscar.

Oscar and the merge. Oscar Pine, Little Prince, pining at Ruby's grave in the desert. I talk about this set up a lot, and it's difficult to explain succinctly because it's got a lot of complex pieces at play (and has been going on since their meeting, as mentioned above). But if I were to try and break it down as simply as possible:

Ruby's fatal flaw is her grief. Her silver eyes are powered by, and the embodiment of, the preservation of life. She doesn't want to lose anyone else that she cares about and cannot bear the weight of responsibility that comes with it alone. So much so that she almost abandons her own identity via ascension because she is offered the choice to do so. She stays true to herself in the end as someone that fights, not for those she's lost, but for those she hasn't lost yet. And the narrative, through all their interactions, but especially the Tea Party, has placed Oscar front and centre in the position of who Ruby hasn't lost yet. Oscar, who wants nothing more than to be a part of the team that he keeps pushing away. Oscar, who just wants to be who he is, to preserve himself, but is being robbed of that choice via the merge. Something Ruby, can't protect him from.

RWBY loves to make its pairings thematically complimentary and it loves pushing characters to their limits. There is no way that the scenes and setup between Oscar and Ruby haven't been intentionally building to something big with how much their respective and shared conflicts are directly playing off of each other. There is no way CRWBY - with their limited budget and resource constraints - dedicated all that screen time to these two for it to not pay off at some point. And given this arc is the last one... now's a good a time as any for it to happen.

[its-been-rose]

Honestly, i always love myself a good messed up slasher. Especially when they work in pairs (Scream, anyone?)

But when it gets to the story of Killer Frequency, I always just keep wanting to pull Marie aside and go "Yoooooou! Put that boy through so much trauma! And then JUMPED?!"

And like in your art, I doubt this is just a spur of the moment thing, like she's been training for this! Imagine as a young child waking up and your mother teaches you to whistle, not because it's a fun little skill but bc you're gonna use it to terrorize then murder people with.

You are compared to a father you've never even met and somewhat care but also don't care for because it's an image presented to you via your mother who you love so much you'd do anything for.

You are taught to use a knife, probably. Something just tells me this isn't their first instance of killing someone, especially Marie. I mean do you remember Mrs. Loomis in Scream 2 when Randy is talking shit and she MAIMS him? That's Marie all the way.

There's just... so much to say about Marie. Like what was she even planning to do after this fact?

THISSS!!! ALL OF THIS!!!!

I don’t think this was the intention, but her jumping off Whistling Point at the end seemed to me like it was something she’d planned the entire time, like she’d planned it to be a murder-suicide from the get go. I think in reality it was probably just a very serendipitous coincidence that’s where her running from the cops took her and she took the easy way out due to the convenience. I’m just a sucker for drama and having her basically planning a 20-year long suicide plan is pretty dark.

But either way, she completely threw Henry to the wolves. Obviously she told him to run but what parent wouldn’t be like “don’t go after him he had nothing to do with it it’s me you want”??? Like girl you’re just gonna orphan your son?? Who looked up to you so?

I do not doubt for a single second that she raised Henry for that night and that night alone. Literally nothing else mattered. She absolutely screwed him over and let herself believe she was doing the right thing. If you think about the game for more than five seconds the real tragedy becomes obvious.

I totally agree with you that Henry did it less because he loved his father and wanted revenge for his death but more because he loved his mother who loved his father and wanted to do right by her. Like some of my own relatives passed away before I was born, and I was told stories about them, but I don’t feel a connection to them at all. I feel connected to how my parents felt about them. Like one of my parents lost their brother (my uncle) but i feel worse for them losing their sibling than i do for myself losing an uncle, if that makes sense. I can definitely see Henry thinking something along the lines of “yeah my dad was killed and it sucks and it’s not fair I never got to meet him, but look what his death did to my mom, it destroyed her, and it’s all their fault she’s been miserable for 19 years”

Yeah, Marie taught him, raised him, to be this. It should be a parent’s worst nightmare for their kid to turn into a monster, but she encouraged it. Completely unfair. And yeah I mean we know from Clive’s tapes that Whistling Night wasn’t their first foray into murder. They’d been chasing down stragglers for a while before then, could have been anywhere from months to weeks to days before.

As for what her plan was after the fact… I don’t think she had one, to be perfectly honest. This was all that mattered. I mean like- she even revealed her identity and the identity of her son ON AIR, so it would be way harder to go into hiding anyway. To me that says she didn’t really plan ahead. Just be perpetually on the run?

[veronicaphoenix]

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: angst, swearing, best friends’ comfort, alcohol intake, implied depression. | Word count: 1.7k | Cross posted on AO3. | Series masterpost. ✧.*

General trigger warnings: This work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction and violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

The creative fervor in the studio suddenly hit a roadblock as my eyes scanned the lyrics on the page. 

“What?” Matt asked, sensing my energy shifting as he waited for me to say something. He was standing in front of me, reclined on the desk, his arms crossed over his chest, cap on. 

“I’ve been thinking about the album’s concept, and I feel like we’re heading in another direction with these lines,” I said, hesitating before speaking. “I know I wrote them myself, but I’m still not convinced. They don’t sound… dark enough.”

Nicholas exchanged a glance with Matt. Matt leaned forward, concern etched on his face. "How dark do you want to get, Noah? We’re not trying to scare people away. That’s not the point of making music.”

“I know,” I replied back with exasperation tainting my words. I dropped the notebook on the small table in front of the sofa where I had been sat for the past twenty minutes. My coffee from Starbucks was going cold. 

“Maybe we can add that dark tone with the instrumentals,” Nicholas added, eyeing the two of us as he took a sip of his coffee.  

I nodded. It wasn’t a bad idea and we had done it plenty of times before, however, I was still not satisfied with my own choice of lyrics, and no one could beat me at being the most stubborn man in the room. 

“I understand your intention,” Matt continued, “you want the album to resonate with the fans, you want them facing their demons and embracing the darkness and all of that, but we’re on a deadline. We can’t keep changing lyrics every single day. Besides, this is pretty good. I don’t see why you’re not happy with it,” he pointed to the open notebook between us. 

The room fell into a contemplative silence as the weight of my final decision lingered. 

Despite feeling torn, I sighed deeply. “You’re right. I need to stop being such a fucking perfectionist.”

Standing up, I ignored Nicholas and Matt’s nods of agreement and walked to position myself in front of the glass, hands on the edge of the monitoring desk. On the other side, Jolly and Nick waited for me to give them new instructions. 

By the time we made it back home that evening, I was exhausted. I took a shower, ate some salad and lasagna that Jesse had prepared, and went straight to my room. I knew I should just let it got, but I couldn’t shake off the unease in my head. I grabbed the notebook I left on the armchair in the corner, a pen, and settled on the bed, headphones on. 

Just as I filled the last empty spaces on that page and turned to the next one, I found Lia’s handwriting staring back at me. 

‘Some days I cannot tell if the sea is calling out to me

Some days I cannot tell if it’s just me who wants to drown

Will you say the sea is the enemy?

Or will you say the only enemy is me?’

I stayed silent for a few minutes, lost in the lyrics written on the page. I couldn’t remember when the last time had been that she had written anything in that particular notebook. As I tried to decipher the meaning behind the words and understand why she had written it, if there was anything that had happened that I could relate it to, a text from Lia appeared on my phone, which lay by my side on the bed. 

‘Can I call you?’

I frowned at the question, making quick work of my reply. 

‘Of course you can call me. Why do you even have to ask such a stupid question?’

Ten seconds later, I had an incoming call from Lia. 

“Hi, Gremlin,” I greeted her. “I missed you in the studio today.”

I’d missed her the whole day, as per usual, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. 

“Hi,” she said. Her voice was low, her tone down. 

After her greeting, there was a certain weight hanging in the air, and I could sense that something was off. 

“Lia? Is something wrong?”

“No”, she replied, but I could hear her sniffling. 

Concern crept into my voice as I straightened up in bed, pushing myself and placing the notebook, our shared notebook, on the bedside table. 

“Lia, what the hell is going on?”

As if she didn’t know how angry it made me whenever she dismissed my worries, she replied, “Nothing.”

“Lia,” I started to raise my voice. All I got from her in the last five days were texts, a random videocall when she was in Barnes & Noble, and a few pictures of her plants and some drawings she was working on. Nothing else. And now this strange call at nearly midnight? “Don’t lie to me,” I said. “I know you. I know your voice. You’re about to start crying.”

“It’s nothing, really,” a sigh. Her voice was heavy. “I’m just really sensitive these days.”

Frustration knitted my brows together as I tried to make sense of her vague answer. What did that mean? Her period? No, not that. Lia wasn’t one to get extra sensitive those days —she was sensitive most of the time, let’s be honest, and since she honestly admitted that she missed me a couple of weeks ago and she fell asleep on my lap she had been a mess, crying for whatever reason every other day—. Whenever she was on her period it was pretty obvious to me because she got hungry as a lion and she could eat everything she found in the kitchen in a matter of a couple of days. So, it wasn’t that. What the hell made her really sensitive?

“You’re starting to worry the hell out of me, Lia,” I told her as a matter of fact. “Do you want me to come over?”

“No. No, don’t come. It’s fine,” she ushered to say, which only added more fuel to my concern. “Noah?”

“Yes, Lia?”

“You’ll never stop being my best friend, right?”

 Her question caught me off ward. What was going on with the silly questions? Why was she being so insecure and childish?

“Of course not. You’re everything to me, you know that. You know all my bad habits and put up with my shit and still, you cho—… Oh, not again, Lia.” She was crying.  

“Sorry,” she managed to say between sobs. “I’m such a mess. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“I’m coming over,” I declared, pushing the duvet away.  

“No, please.”

“Why?” I demanded, moving to the edge and scanning the room for the hoodie I wore that day. The room was only bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, which created shadows here and there that seemed to mirror the turmoil in Lia’s voice. 

The line fell silent, and I could sense a struggle within her, a hesitation that begged for understanding.

 “I need to learn to deal with this bullshit on my own. I’m serious,” she asserted, regaining some control after weeping for a long minute. Then, I heard her faint footsteps. She was moving from one room to another. “I just… needed to hear your voice, but I need to get a grip on myself. Sometimes I think I’m too dependent on you.” 

“Well, if I’m allowed to be honest, I like it,” I told her, picking up the hoodie from the top of the drawer. 

“But it’s not right. I have Mitch now and…” Her voice trembled.

“Hey!” I interrupted, lifting my head to find myself staring at empty space. Fuck Mitch, I thought. On her end, I recognized the sound of the fridge door opening and Lia retrieving a bottle — beer.  “Mitch might be your boyfriend, but he’s no replacement for me. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” came her reply, accompanied by the distinct sound of the bottle cap hitting the counter. She took a gulp. “I meant to say that I shouldn’t be bothering you so much. I’m used to calling you whenever I feel like shit and this will only lead to uncomfortable situations in the future.”

“No, it won’t” I asserted, not knowing exactly what she was referring to, “and we can’t go back now, can we? Don’t mind me, but bless the day I found you on the street plucking grass from the concrete.” 

“A concrete jungle…” she muttered. More footsteps. She was going back to the room. I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Exactly. A concrete jungle. Now you finally now what that song is about.”

“Sure.”

 Her sweet laughter echoed through the phone, and the mission was complete. 

After a stretch of comfortable silence, I dropped the hoodie back on top of the drawer and retreated back to my bed, yearning for Lia’s physical presence in my room, wishing I could make sure she was okay. I would take her to the living room and force her to watch some stupid comedy, just like I used to do whenever she lived here and she had nightmares. 

Or better, I would have her sleep by my side.   

“Can you stay on the line until I fall asleep?”

I raised a brow.

“Shouldn’t you be having some lavender tea or something like that to help you fall asleep instead of drinking beer?” 

“How do you know I’m drinking beer?”

“The glass bottle you took out from the fridge is some kind of iced green tea, then?”

“Ugh,” I could see her rolling her eyes as she plopped down on the bed.  

“Yeah, okay,” I answered to her previous question. “I’ll stay on the line, no problem,” the tension dissipating, the knot in my stomach gradually loosening. 

“You have to promise me you’re coming over tomorrow. We need you in the studio. I got stuck with some lyrics today and Matt doesn’t want me to change them. I need your help, and being out of the house might do some good to you. Come on.”

“Okay,” she replied, her tone lowering down. “Just keep the phone on.” These were her parting words, which conveyed more concern about having my presence on the other side of the line until she fell asleep than meeting with me and the boys tomorrow for work. 

It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep, either. 

When I woke up in the morning, the first thing I did was check my phone. Lia had disconnected the call at 6.30am. The entire night had been spent with our breaths traveling through the phone line, keeping us together despite the physical distance.  

[luckycheesefoodie321]

OK SO THEORY TIME (IRON FLAME SPOILERS)

So I have a feeling, a very strong one, that Xaden will give in to being venin. Maybe not the next book but down the line at some point.

It’s like, you won’t introduce the idea that your MC becomes venin if you don’t wanna fully explore what that plotline has to offer.

So Xaden goes full venin. Good reasons, bad reasons, who knows.

But let’s say he comes back from it. OR he’s full venin but like he still has his conscience. He never wanted unlimited power but the temptation of it made him succumb.

Either way he returns to Violet, venin or otherwise. Or she manages to pull him back. And his self loathing is in full force. He doesn’t believe she could possibly love him.

The one true vulnerability Xaden has shown is how terrified he is to lose Violet. And after going venin and now being faced with her again, he can’t possibly believe she still loves him. Regardless of his intentions in becoming and then committing to being a venin.

But she’s there. And let’s say for these purposes she is fully cognisant of all his reasons for going venin and there have been examples here and there where she sees the true Xaden shining through despite everyone around her dismissing him as a lost cause.

And she’s here trying to show him that’s she’s all in, ride or die, that she still loves him.

But he doesn’t believe.

And Violet, after working so hard to make keeping her shields up as natural as breathing (especially after Xaden, an inntinnsic, goes to the dark side) and after so many betrayals and her actively demanding he never read her mind (and I hope that should he do become full venin he is still determined to never use that power on her), she says one simple line:

“Read my mind”

And Xaden, in this version of events, ever since making that promise to her, has never, even as her opponent, read her mind or even thought about using his inntinnsic powers on her. Even after being coaxed by his venin superiors.

Because he knows what it means.

He knows Violet’s mind is the final frontier of her trust and communicating via their bond is nowhere near the same as being privy to her thoughts and intentions. He knows what it means given their own personal history and her past in facing constant deceit and mis truths.

She trusts him completely.

And for the first time since those initial days of meeting her, he reaches out to her mind and all he gets is a burst of love and warmth and faith in him.

And that’s what changes the tide of the war.

Not Xaden’s strategies or her powers. Instead, it’s something far more simple.

Violet Sorrengail’s love.

[nicolegmattos]

My Christian best friend reacts to Good Omens (part 10): Post discussion

Sadly, this will be last part for now until season 3 releases. Then we’ll probably watch together and I’ll bring you our reactions with us both watching it for the first time.

Link to part 9 if you haven’t seen it yet.

Them: My God, I kin Crowley. I’m dead inside.

Me: *trying to console them* I know damn well how this feels. But remember what God said. “The story starts as it will finish. In a garden.” And they’ll probably end up sharing a cottage.

Them: I DON’T WANNA KNOW ABOUT A GARDEN. I WANT MY COUPLE.

Me: But there can be a garden in the cottage lol. I mean… Crowley loves plants. And Aziraphale pretended to be a gardener once. Also, I’m pretty sure Neil will give us a happy ending in season three.

Them: THANK YOU, NEIL.

Me: HE’S AN ANGEL. And a Demon. We hate you with love, Neil.

Them: Hahaha. Man… I’ll need therapy.

Me: We’ll need. We’ll send the bills to Neil lol. It’s his fault.

Them: Yesss.

Me: *crying* Oh, Crowley’s eyes full of tears before he puts on the sunglasses.

Them: MY GOD, YES, I NOTICED IT.

Me: What’s worse is that he had the best of intentions but not only Aziraphale is a bit dumb lol but also Crowley is not that good in communicating how he feels. Imagine the trauma. The only time he tried to do that it didn’t work.

Them: They both wanted to be together. But Azi still has a lot of that thing of respecting the Divine a little too much. And that ends up getting lost with Crowley.

Me: He has an extremely toxic relationship with Heaven. I can’t get over how his gaze was so sad when he realized he had lost Crowley the moment he leaned down his head to put on his sunglasses.

Them: DON’T SAY IT.

Me: BUT I ALREADY SAID IT.

Them: He’s dependent (of Heaven).

Me: Yeah. And like, he feels he needs it. When he cut off connections with Heaven he started reporting his good deeds to Crowley. He basically doesn’t know how to live without being an Angel working to Heaven.

Them: I think that’s a bit normal. Crowley is the kind of person that after a relationship is “Ok. Dead end”. But Azi has a sort of dependency.

Me: Yes. When both cut off connections it seemed like everything would be alright and that Aziraphale had finally understood how Heaven was. But the moment that was offered to him the opportunity to change Heaven from inside, all of that was lost.

Them: I even thought he would leave it there because he was doing some things out of line. BUT NO. Like, I get it that he wants to change it, but that would take millions of years. And maybe it would never happen.

Me: Unfortunately he believes a lot on everyone’s goodness and the greater good. He actually believes that the system is broken. But the thing is that the system is working exactly how it should and he doesn’t realize it.

Them: Exactly. It was like Crowley said. Both Heaven and Hell are toxic. It’s not for nothing that Gabriel and Beelzebub ran off.

Me: Yessss. And Aziraphale saw they could live without them. But on the other hand they couldn’t live on Earth and would always be hiding or running away. And not just that. He isn’t selfish to the point of grabbing the opportunity of being happy with Crowley in another place if he knows Earth and the people are in danger. Because Hell and Heaven still want the end of the world. He wants to do good. He wants to solve things. Even if it costs his own happiness. Because he said he didn’t want to go back to Heaven.

Them: YESSSS. Like, I understand both sides.

Me: Me too.

Them: But I’m sad.

Me: Sorry.

[moonferry]

im running out of witty things to title these lol but here's fsioy chapter 11

okay this ones a bit different, but its very important to what happens next. this is sort of a segue ? if that makes sense. but i basically wanted to write lee's reaction & how that ties into what's happening next so hear u go.

warnings: mentions of death, arguing, swearing, blaming, (basically the boys argue)

word count: 4284

summary: lee finally returns from his "secret scout mission" and realizes his own feelings. on his search for danny, he runs into kent and receives some terrible news.

ao3 link: here

other chapters: chapter masterlist

July 19XX, Army Camp – Middle of the War | Danny’s Funeral

Willy did exactly as he said he would: while Kent was washing away the events that took place earlier in the day, Willy had rounded up several generals and corporals and begun setting up the standard funeral procedures. He had handed the cold lump of flesh that - only hours ago - was Danny to what would pass as a mortician (not like they had much time to properly embalm the body, with the influx of war casualties, but it didn’t sit right with Willy to leave the boy to the elements, so he insisted on a proper burial.) Plus, Willy had a soft spot for Kent’s little trio. 

He began walking around, alerting the cadets that there would be a slight change in their schedules to honor a fallen member of Cabin Five. As he approached Cabin Five itself, he noticed the sound of muffled sobs behind a nearby door. He moved towards the door and gave a faint knock. 

“Are ye alright, Lad?” He called out. Willy wasn’t entirely sure who was behind that door, but he could make a good guess. Given what transpired earlier, it was likely none other than Kent. 

“Go away,” The voice called back, sniffling. 

“Look, son, I know this is tough,” Willy started, a small sigh escaping his lips. He leaned his shoulder against the door, fidgeting with his hands as he tried to find some comforting words. Eventually, he spoke once again, “Things like this happen every day. It doesn’t get any easier, trust me. But ya have to keep goin’, despite everythin’ life throws at ye or the things it takes away.” 

Kent didn’t respond. Though, through the silence, Willy could tell he was thinking about his words. 

“Kent, open the door, lad,” Willy spoke calmly, trying to keep his voice even. He wasn’t angry at Kent by any means - in fact, he would’ve been surprised if Kent hadn’t reacted this way - but he was beginning to get frustrated. 

More silence, though there was the slightest shuffling - as if Kent was considering opening the door. 

“I just want to talk t’ ye,” The older man explained as another sigh left his lips. When the door still remained shut, Willy started to walk away. However, a soft “click” of a lock and the faint groaning of hinges stopped him. He turned back around and noticed the door was now slightly ajar. It wasn’t much, but it was progress. Willy waited a bit longer and watched as the door slowly crept open more and more. Eventually, it revealed Kent, who was currently sitting in the corner of the room and clutching the soiled uniform to his chest. 

Willy’s lips formed a thin line and he nodded. He’d seen this happen far too many times - and even experienced it himself in his younger days. Now, with the war constantly waging on and the casualties seeming to rise every day, Willy had grown a bit numb. It wasn’t intentional, more of a side effect - really -, but Willy had seen so much death, so much destruction, that it was to be expected at this point. He didn’t expect Kent to understand this, obviously. He approached Kent before crouching down to his eye level. 

“I know it’s terrible, lad,” Willy started. He glanced down at the garment in Kent’s hands and remembered his own share of losses. He took a deep breath and began to sympathize with Kent, “I’ve lost many good people in this war - and others like it -, lad. War’s an awful thing. But that’s all it is. Awful. Absolutely nothin’ good comes from all this bloodshed and carnage - it’s really just to create a big stink.”

“What do you mean?” Kent asked, confusion momentarily clouding his sadness. He looked up at Willy and tried to determine what the man was saying. 

“My point bein’: I understand what yer feeling, son, but your friend wouldn’t want you to be mopin’ around - not when there’s things to be done,” Willy explained, placing a firm hand on Kent’s shoulder. 

Kent thought about this for a moment. He looked back at the garment in his hands, starting deeply into the crimson markings - the ones that transferred when he held Danny close to him - and exhaled a deep breath. Willy’s words did have some substance, but Kent wasn’t sure he could “move on” - just like that, as if Danny shouldn’t be next to him and not a cold lump on some metal slab. Kent thought back to Danny’s final request - where he told Kent to live on, for Jodi. Kent knew it wouldn’t be easy - and that he’d probably struggle along the way - but he also knew how true those words were. As much as he hated to admit it, he now had something to lose and he couldn’t let that happen. 

He looked back up at Willy and nodded. Kent hesitated a moment, thinking to himself once again. He hoped this is what Danny would want, but there was no way of knowing. Kent promised himself he’d keep trying - to keep going, to keep living - all like Danny had said. He pushed himself into a standing position before handing Willy the soiled uniform. 

“Ah, yeah,” Willy started, as if he remembered what he was originally doing in this cabin, he looked at Kent - his gaze softening slightly - and spoke once again, “We’re havin’ a small ceremony for your friend. It’s this afternoon. Attend if you can, but I won’t blame ya if you can’t.” 

Kent listened to his words, his face falling as he did so. He knew this was coming. Yet, learning they were having a funeral made everything seem much more… real. It caused Kent to feel like, once the ceremony was over, he’d have nothing left to remember his friend - nothing but his own memories, and those would fade, eventually. He remained quiet as he thought. 

Willy noticed his silence and looked at his glum expression. He glanced around - making sure no one was sneakily eavesdropping - before moving closer to Kent and whispering. 

“Don’t tell anyone, but I managed to snag a copy of yer friend’s I.D. tag,” Willy admitted, pulling a small, metal object from his many coat pockets. Once it was placed in Kent’s palm, he cleared his throat and continued, “The original will be sent t’ the boy’s family, fer obvious reasons.. But, I managed t’ pull ah… a few strings and got ya a copy. Let’s just say… someone in the management office owed me a favor.” He gave Kent a secretive wink before patting him on the back. 

“Well, I best be on me way back. I’ve still got other cadets to notify,” Willy spoke as he exited the small room. 

Kent watched him leave before inspecting the small object in his hands. It was similar to his own tag - just stating the basics (name/rank/I.D. number/etc) - but it felt different, somehow. The fact that it belonged to someone else - to someone he was close to - made it feel…special, in a bad way. Kent took a deep breath, looking at the tag once again, before gently slipping it into his uniform pocket. He’d have to put it in a safe place to avoid losing it. He was grateful to Willy - for getting it for him - but Kent couldn’t help but feel bittersweet. He shouldn’t have this, it should be with Danny’s belongings. With Danny. 

Kent walked back to the soldier’s quarters, silent and deep in thought. When he entered, however, he marched toward Danny’s bunk instead of his own. It was much neater than the rest - perfectly made sheets, neatly tucked beneath the mattress. That was the thing about Danny– he was always neat and tidy (and often scolded Kent and Lee for their chronic messiness or lateness, affectionately, of course). Kent sat down on the edge of the mattress - silently apologizing to Danny for ruining his neat bed - and took the tag out of his pocket once again. He turned the cool metal in his hands, absentmindedly tracing his thumb over the engraving. Kent was too deep in his thought and didn’t seem to notice the sound of approaching footsteps, nor the whine of the door’s hinges as he was pushed open. 

“Hey, I’m back,” The person spoke as they opened the door, glancing around at the mostly empty room with a confused look. It was Lee, who had just returned from his “secret scouting mission”. His eyes landed on Kent and his confusion grew even more. 

Kent glanced up, his expression unreadable. He looked at his friend, scanning him up and down, and noticed a small bundle of assorted flowers in his left hand and a wide smile plastered across his face. It made Kent sick that Lee seemed so happy at a time like this. And then it dawned on him, Lee didn’t know what happened. 

“Kent? Where’s Danny?” Lee asked, his smile dropping as he looked around the room. “I told him to wait here - that I’d be back after a short walk,” Lee added. 

Kent’s lips formed a small line, though his eyes shone with sadness. He patted the spot next to him and waited for Lee to approach. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Kent spoke, slight anger seeping into his voice. 

“Well, like I told Danny, I went on a little… mission. I just needed time to think,” Lee explained, taken aback by the anger in Kent’s voice. Was he missing something? 

When Kent didn’t respond, Lee gave an awkward chuckle before rubbing the back of his neck. He continued, “While I was out there, I was replaying Danny’s words in my mind.. I couldn’t seem to wrap my head around the idea that he liked me, y’know?” 

“And then, I thought even more, and I realized, hey! I actually really enjoy Danny’s company, but like, in a different way than I enjoy yours,” Lee rambled, a faint blush covering his cheeks. He continued, “So, I realized I must like him, too! And I had the bright idea to collect him some flowers - just to tell him how much he meant to me, you know? My grandma taught me the meaning behind some flowers and I wanted to look for those specifically.” 

Lee sheepishly took the assortment of flowers from behind his back and held them up for Kent to see. It was a collection of mismatched flowers, hastily thrown together and tied with a small string so they were easier to hold. However, the most prominent of the flowers was a giant sunflower (which represents adoration, happiness, loyalty, and longevity). 

“Unfortunately, they were harder to find than I anticipated.. I had to walk three blocks! And, when I started back, I got… a little lost. I ended up being gone longer than I thought, and now.. I can’t seem to find Danny anywhere.” 

“Lee,” Kent started, looking at his friend with a saddened expression, “There’s something.. Something you need to know.” 

“Why do you look so sad, Kent?” Lee asked, his brows furrowing in concern. He tried to lighten the mood with a small joke, “It’s not like someone died. I was only gone for a few hours!”

Lee looked at Kent’s face, noticing he wasn’t laughing. He gulped a bit, his eyes widened. “It’s not like someone died…, right..?” Lee asked warily. 

Kent took a small inhale before reaching over and gently grabbing Lee’s hand. He looked into his eyes, giving the hand a gentle squeeze, before softly speaking, “Danny’s dead, Lee.” 

“What?” Lee exclaimed, his face paling at the news. 

“He’s dead. Happened this morning,” Kent clarified, his own expression becoming grim. 

“What.. W-what happened?” Lee asked. The bouquet of flowers tumbling out of his hand in shock. It hit the pillowy mattress beneath it hard enough to jostle the flowers - causing some petals to fall off. 

“He was shot near the west gate,” Kent explained, a small, defeated sigh leaving his lips. 

“Why was he near the west gate?” Lee asked, a mixture of confusion and sadness coating his words. 

“He was looking for you, Lee,” Kent replied, a small bout of accusation seeping into his voice. He gripped the metal tag in his hand so harshly that his knuckles turned white. “I had to watch Danny die, all because of you!” Kent spat out, his previous anger returning as he thought about their friend. In truth, he knew it wasn’t fair to blame Lee for what happened - if anything, Kent was just as guilty - but he couldn’t seem to control his emotions. 

“That’s not fair, man,” Lee argued. He held up his arms in defense before adding, “I didn’t know he’d follow me. I told him not to.” 

“Yeah, but he did,” Kent spoke, his anger being replaced with more sadness as he realized he just lashed out at his friend. 

He let out a small sigh, “I’m sorry, Lee. It’s not your fault, I know that..” 

“S’alright, man,” Lee said, though a flash of hurt crossed his face. Kent felt guilty once again. Leave it to him to make things worse, he thought. That’s all that seemed to happen lately. Everything would’ve been fine if he hadn’t opened his mouth. 

Kent reached over and wrapped Lee into a hug, patting his back as Lee leaned into him. Kent held Lee as his friend’s emotions seemed to overflow, a gentle stream of tears soaking Kent’s shoulder. 

“He really liked you, you know,” Kent offered, trying to cheer up his friend. He rubbed small, soothing circles on Lee’s lower back before adding, “You should’ve seen how he looked at you when you weren’t looking.” 

Lee sniffled as he pulled away. He glanced down at his bouquet, which was scattered across the bed sheet. He let out a small, humorless chuckle as he looked at the mess the two of them had made. He reached a hand up and brushed away a stray tear before speaking, “Danny would’ve killed us for sitting on his bed. And this mess…I think he would’ve ignored us for a week.” 

Kent sniffled as well, nodding his head, “Yeah.. Yeah he would’ve.” 

Kent reached down, picking up a few of the fallen petals and handing them to Lee. He let out a small sigh and remembered what Willy told him earlier. It was almost time for the ceremony. 

“C’mon, Lee,” He urged, pushing himself into a standing position. He reached a hand out and pulled Lee up as well before continuing, “It’s time to go say goodbye.” 

…

The two walked into the clearing - the same clearing where Kent and the other recruits had their orientation on the first day. Instead of the usual set up of bare stage and a sparse amount of folding chairs, it was decorated in muted colors, all chairs had been removed, and a line of rifle-bearing soldiers stood to Kent’s left. In front of the stage - instead of the usual microphone and sound system - stood a small platform, which held a steel box draped with the flag of the Ferngill Republic. Kent stuck his hand in his pocket and wrapped his fingers around the smooth metal of the I.D. tag. Lee took his place next to Kent, still clutching his now ruined bouquet, and looked absolutely heart broken. 

A man neither of the two had seen before took his place at the podium and began giving a long, rambling speech. 

“This soldier.. While I didn’t know him personally, I know he would’ve done anything for the Corps. His belief in our troops should be enough to keep us all going. This man died today. He died bravely - on a stakeout mission where he was trapped by several of our enemies.” 

As Kent listened to this, his blood began to boil. This was nothing like what happened, and this person was nothing like the Danny he knew. 

“This isn’t right,” Kent whispered to Lee, who also seemed to be getting increasingly angry at the mischaracterization of Danny. Lee clenched his fist at his side, gritting his teeth as the man continued spouting nonsense. 

“I’m gonna say something,” Lee said, rage fueled determination filling his voice.

“Lee, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Kent warned, attempting to calm his friend down. Unfortunately, it seemed like Lee didn’t want to be reasoned with. He had vanished from Kent’s side and Kent looked around for him frantically. Eventually, his eyes landed on Lee climbing the steps to the stage, approaching the microphone. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lee interrupted the speaker, attempting to get the microphone from the stranger’s hands. 

“Young man, please, this is a memorial ceremony,” The man scolded, keeping the microphone out of Lee’s grasp. 

“You don’t know a single thing about him!” Lee spat. He managed to grab the microphone and turned to accuse the crowd on the stage, “You don’t even know his name!”

“I’m sure we do.. He’s.. Dennis something.” 

“His name was Daniel Sawyer. Everyone knew him as Danny,” Lee spoke, anger filling his voice at the disrespect his friend was receiving. His fist tightened by his side and Lee continued speaking, “Danny was the most amazing person I know. He wasn’t brave, sure, but he made up for it in other ways. He was super neat and always thought about other people. He only went out there that day because he was worried about me, of all people. And… and none of you people appreciated him. No one even liked him - except for his two friends! Stop lying to everyone and stop acting like you care.” 

“Vincent, that is enough,” The man scolded once again, a sneer forming on his lips.

“My name isn’t Vincent!” Lee spat, tears welling up in his eyes, “It’s Lee. Danny is the one who started that nickname, but I wouldn’t expect you guys to understand. I wouldn’t even expect you to care.” 

Kent watched the scene unfold and felt touched. He climbed the stairs and took the place on Lee’s left side. The two took turns screaming into the microphone - saying everything memorable about Danny, and, when they ran out, they started saying the “less memorable” things. 

“Disruptive! The both of you!” The man yelled, frustration building in his voice. “You two will be thoroughly punished for this.” He attempted to get closer to the boys, but was stopped by a firm hand against his shoulder. It was Willy, who had been watching this from the sidelines. 

“I don’t think that’s goin’ t’ happen, Corporal,” Willy spoke, giving the man a disappointed head shake. 

“Ah.. Colonel Dodgens… What I meant was.. I mean.. Um.. You know, hyperbole,” The corporal squeaked, visibly shrinking as Willy looked at him. 

“These boys are to respond to me orders, from now on. Orders from th’ big boss, Corporal..” Willy explained, crossing his arms over his chest. A disappointed look flashed over his face as he looked at the man once again, “An’ I don’t take too kindly to other officers threatenin’ me soldiers.” 

“Right.. Um,” The man gulped, his eyes bulging, “I’ll be leaving now.” 

“Oh, and Corporal?” Willy called out as the other man had turned to leave. 

He turned back around, “Yes, Colonel?” 

“Learn your soldiers better next time, eh?” Willy scolded, shaking his head in disbelief before adding, ”Don’t go shoutin’ that generic bullshit every time one of ‘em dies.”

The corporal then turned and scampered off - looking like an animal with their tail between their legs. Willy approached the two boys. He watched them, shouting into the microphone until their voices turned hoarse. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders and turned them to look at him. 

“Well, that was certainly a ceremony, eh, lads?” He spoke, a small hearty chuckle leaving his lips. “Certainly the most excitin’ one I’ve ever witness, let me tell ya.”  

“Willy!” Kent exclaimed, happy to see the old ship captain. He then grimaced, realizing that they had just created a big ruckus. “Are.. are you mad?” He asked, glancing down at his boots. 

“Nah, I’m not mad,” Willy spoke, shaking his head, “It takes a lot more to ruffle me feathers. Nah.. that corporal was just a.. You know.” He chuckled once again, sending the two a wink instead of finishing his sentence. 

He glanced down and noticed an incredibly crumpled bouquet. Willy scooped it up and handed it to Lee. 

“I believe these are yours, son.” Willy spoke as Lee took the flowers from his hand. 

“How did you-?” Lee asked, confusion washing over his face. He couldn’t remember telling anyone but Kent about his flowers. 

“I have me ways, lad,” Willy answered. He then gave Lee a gentle shove towards the coffin before adding, “I think he’s waitin’ for ya. So, go ahead. Tell him.” 

Lee gulped and slowly approached the coffin. It was ajar, surprisingly, and Lee glanced in to see Danny’s still face - void of all emotion and icy cold. Lee gripped the edge of the steel box, feeling his breathing hitch in his throat. 

“Hey, Dan,” Lee started, his eyes beginning to water. “I can’t help but feel like this is all my fault, you know? Kent told me the only reason you died was because you were trying to find me..” 

“I’m sorry. I’m not something to chase after, so I really don’t know why you did that.. I’m immature, and… and dumb, and I’ve made my fair share of bad decisions, but you still saw something in me. I don’t know what you saw. I don’t think I’ll ever know.” 

“You know, you always did things I didn’t understand, Danny. You always put up with me even though I was always late. You stood up for everyone - even when you had no one to stand up for you. I remember my first day.. How Ray did his usual idiocy and began picking on me. How you stepped in to stop him. How you told me about your own first day - and mentioned how rough you had it. How you trusted me enough to let me know your deepest secret - something the other guys would almost certainly judge you for - the fact that you liked guys. How I never judged you and always encouraged you to be who you are - were..”

“You were always so brave, in your own way. You inspired me, Danny. I always looked up to you. It was only when you finally told me how you felt that I realized that I, too, felt that way. I.. know you probably can’t hear me, but I love you, Dan. I’ve always loved you - and I only realized it too late. I know I can’t bring you back, despite how desperately I want to, but if I could, I would wrap my arms around you and tell the whole world how I felt about you - regardless of who heard. I’d scream it from every rooftop, I’d yell until I lost my voice, and I’d wake the whole city just to tell them how much I love you. And that still wouldn’t be enough. You mean so much to me, Danny, so you better be waiting for me. Wherever you are.” 

Once Lee finished his speech, he sniffled, wiping away a few stray tears that had begun to crawl down his face. He took a deep breath before placing the bouquet in Danny’s cold hand, his hand lingering against Danny’s for the briefest moment before he pulled it back. There was something bittersweet about the action: of using a bouquet - intending for the sharing of love, joy, and other shared positive feelings - as a final parting gift. Lee felt his chest tighten as he thought about it, about how happy he had originally been at the thought of giving it to Danny, about how sad he was when he actually gave it to him. He never imagined it would be under these circumstances. Lee had longed for happier times and silently scolded himself for his indecision. Why did he leave that morning? And, if he hadn’t, would things have ended differently? Lee wasn’t sure. All he knew was that it felt like a part of his soul had been ripped away, leaving a gaping hole that ached and groaned with the slightest touch. The rawness of his soul would never heal - or, if it did, it would happen very slowly - but how else are you supposed to cope when losing something so integral - so important - to who you are. Lee would not be “Lee” without Danny. 

Lee slowly returned to Kent’s side and was immediately pulled into a side hug. Lee rested his head against Kent’s shoulder and let out a breath he was unaware he was holding. 

“I’m gonna miss him, man,” Lee said, closing his eyes.

“Me too, man,” Kent added with a small nod, “Me too.” 

The two stayed there for a moment - taking in all they had left, which was each other. Their friendship wouldn’t be the same without Danny, they both knew this, but they also knew that they had to stay strong (and stay together) for Danny’s sake. He would’ve wanted them to keep going. 

Willy approached the two and gave a small sigh, “I hate to interrupt this moment, lads,” He started, moving between the two and causing them to look at him before continuing, “But tomorrow, your lives change.” 

“What do you mean, Willy?” Kent asked, glancing up at the older man.

“Tomorrow,” Willy started, exhaling as if the next news was going to be painful before stating, “You boys move to active combat.”

[dmercer91]

please do more john gibson hcs!!!

inevitability au headcanons (2), jg36

send in asks for this au so i can give reader hobbies and a background pls!! i love them

you and jamie get along really well and when gib sees the two of you speaking through looks and giggling with each other like school girls he swoons

just seeing it puts him so at ease especially because he kept you private for so long

sometimes you get excited when you’re deep diving into your own lore

you cannot keep one plot point straight for the life of you so you babble on and on about random things

on second you’re talking about your first part time job and suddenly you’re talking about your next door neighbour from childhood and her badass cookies

john is so so enamoured

he loves that you’re comfortable word vomiting to him and he loves to hear about your life before you met

he’s much more tame telling you childhood stories but you listen intently 

youll be curled up in his lap while he talks and his voice is so calming to you

it’s like you’re tipsy on each others vibes

you two will dance in the kitchen after too much wine

he loves it when you get wine drunk cause you tend to get very flirty and very touchy

the first time it happened you spent a solid chunk of time just tracing his biceps and v line accompanied with too many jaw kisses

so that dancing turns into you getting backed into the counter

and then sitting on top of the counter

and then a hefty make out

gib notices that if there’s baking supplies in stock at his house then you’ll name something while he’s at practice

so obviously he raids the baking section at his local grocery store so that 1. you’re not bored and 2. you’ll feed him the best brownies that have ever graced his mouth

you brought some with you to a practice once and now you’re periodically met with trevor (sometimes w jamie) at your front door so you’ll bake him something 

john hates it because those are supposed to be his baked goods and trevor is a hog

he’s better if jamie tags along because they even each other out, also because of how the two of you click

it’s a long night after trevor leaves

john does not like to share, especially not when it comes to you, and trevor does a great job at shamelessly (and badly) flirting with you just to piss of his teammate 

it’s unreciprocated, but john truly despises that he was even in the room with you

so of course

he sits you in his lap and disturbs your pre-bedtime reading with kisses to your shoulders and neck

and you ignore him so he ups his game and messes with the waistband of your panties

his last ditch attempt consists of him faking offence, trying to get you to bite

“what? trevor give you enough attention? you’re sated for the night?”

you close your book and glare at him, he’s grinning like an idiot

“c’mere. want you so loud he can hear you back home”

he delivers well enough to make that wish come true, within reason

you’ve had to resort to quickies at the practice facility cause sometimes he decides he’s had enough of you talking to other wags or teammates or staff

cause he’s been so used to having you a secret that it’s weird to not have your undivided attention

maybe it’s toxic

maybe it’s hot

maybe it’s both in a jumbled mess of too much to unpack, but you don’t mind him wanting you all to himself

i don’t think i talked about foreplay in the first part (?)

but

he loves having you sit on his face

more than anything in the world other than you yourself

in the beginning you’re afraid to hurt him, but once after one of those infamous ‘million saves! but we still lost lmao’ games he practically laid down and dragged your thighs around his head and went on for as long as you could handle

“j.. j, thats enough, i can’t,” he loosens his grip and when you pull away to sit on his chest his mouth and chin are soaked and his eyes are dark

he loves to fuck your face

an unusual amount

he slowly but surely trains your mouth for him and it is 100% the best time investment he’s ever made

he likes a hand job on days when he’s just letting you have your fun with foreplay

if he’s moody you usually don’t get to touch him until he’s buried to the hilt

when you first get together you surprise him with starting on the pill so you were comfortable without a condom

and eventually he slowly starts trying to convince you to wean off

it’s totally not at all cause he sees you bouncing a teammates toddler on your lap and cooing at them and thinks he needs to see it every day of his life

“can you stop by the pharmacy on your way home from practice? my sugar pills start tomorrow,” “you’re always complaining that they make you feel sick, baby,”

he wraps his arms around you and you smile to yourself

you catch onto what he’s doing way before you lead onto knowing

cause if you say you know what he’s hinting at without giving him a hard no he’ll get a million times worse

and then you finally agree

when you shoot out your last pack he wants to throw a party

“you know that means my period’s gonna start soon, right?” “way to kill the mood,”

king of dirty talk suddenly turns into god of dirty talk

if he’s coming there will not be a single drop of it not going inside you

he used to eat you out after coming, and now? you warm him for as long as possible

you don’t successfully get pregnant for a long, long time after the discovery of some fertility issues

you feel so much guilt cause you know how excited he was and he makes sure that you know he would never blame you

[altocat]

altoooo since i so love your perspective on things: do you have any headcanons about genesis's adoptive parents? i'm working on a fic and i want to gather some different perspectives on them. literally all we know in canon amounts to a few throwaway lines in extracanonical material -- "Despite being under observation, after living as parents and child for so many years Genesis’ ‘parents’ eventually become attached to him, and are willing to betray ShinRa to protect him. However, his foster parents’ true intent doesn’t get through to Genesis, and kills even his parents."

I've talked about it a bit before but I'll expand on it!

My idea of Gen's parents is that they both wanted the glitz and glamor of adopting a "special" kid from Project G, but were overall pretty neglectful and inept once the adoption finalized.

Genesis spends much of his early years being ignored and treated like a prized object instead of a person, slowly fostering the need to show off and brag in order to hide his sadness and insecurities, as well as receive attention. His parents spend a lot of time shoving him into various programs and activities as a means of generating clout, but Genesis proves to be sickly, unathletic, and bored for the most part. Genesis retreats more into books and poetry to escape his lonely surroundings, developing a special interest and obsession with Loveless primarily to give his life some meaning. His father in particular doesn't think much of him, viewing him as "girly" and "unfocused". It isn't until Genesis literally invents apple juice that his parents show any genuine pride towards him. And even then, they still try to take most of the credit.

Genesis' friendship with Angeal is also a point of contention as his parents view Angeal and his family as "trashy" due to their impoverished background. Genesis always meets up with Angeal in secret, and comes to love Angeal's family more than his own.

Things come to a head when word of Sephiroth's doings becomes known across Banora. Genesis instantly falls in love with the idea of Sephiroth acting as a famous hero, deciding to finally pursue a real purpose by enlisting in SOLDIER, hoping to one day meet his idol and possibly emerge his equal, if not just as famous. And Angeal goes with him of course. Genesis is extremely eager to get away from his parents, only accepting the lavish supplies they present him with before booking it out to Midgar the first chance he gets.

He does not visit home thereafter, only ever communicating with his parents via letters. They only ever seem to right to him whenever they are enquiring about their patented Banora White Juice products, or if they want a slice of the coveted wealth Genesis has acquired over the years in SOLDIER. Genesis doesn't like to talk about them, unless it's to speak ill of them in general. Over the years, he's reassessed a lot of his childhood encounters with them as being emotionally abusive, coming to terms with his neglect. He realizes on some level that they could have been better. But he also knows they'll always be...well, them. He doesn't need to dwell on it like someone like, say, Sephiroth might. It is what it is.

Years later, his clones storm Banora, eviscerating everything and everyone. Genesis discovers his parents' bodies amidst the fray, impulsively cut down by a gaggle of clones without his permission. On one hand, good riddance. On the other hand, it only fuels his degradation-influenced despair that much more. He buries them himself shortly after, expressionless, brushing away the brief flare of grief to be replaced with lingering anger, blame, and resentment.

What Genesis doesn't know is that his parents were slowly beginning to regret their neglect, concerned about their son's whereabouts and not willing to give up his location. Gen's rebellion had lost them the wealth and popularity they'd enjoyed at home. But instead of cursing their son, they realized that perhaps they'd never truly known him at all. It seems that old age, karma, and years of guilt finally caught up with them, looking to make things right, to own up to their mistakes and potentially reconcile. But by then, it's just too late.

[cativiascorner]

Let’s talk about EP 7’s Title: Dreams and Madness

I firmly believe the original intent of the titling is a tie to both Baylan & Shin. Master & Apprentice. It trickles down to Ahsoka & Sabine as well but I’ll get to that later. MAYBE ILL EVEN GET INTO HOW IT TIES THRAWN AND MORGAN ELSBETH TOO anyway:

Baylan has gone mad, over this dream of his, this ancient power. He pulls unexpected moves this ep and straight up ABANDONS Shin. Seeing as he mentioned he literally raised her: To have acted in this manner, all on a unknown (to them) planet in an unknown galaxy, he’s lost it. You wouldn’t leave someone that you RAISED, and KNOW isn’t ready for events to come. He is acting on whims of a faraway dream that is unfortunately likely going to be his undoing. At the expense of Shin? We’ve yet to see and I fear for it.

Moving onto Shin’s relationship with the title: Shin can clearly be seen nearly taking Ahsoka’s offered help. She literally took a step toward her hand, looking really, really weary. Poor babygirl. To her, the idea of working with them is a Mad Dream. It’s mad because all she’s ever known is Baylan’s teachings (as far as we’re aware. He raised her in the wilds from what lines we got.) and it’s dream because it’s so out of her realm of potentials. But she didn’t expect to lose her master who was chasing his OWN mad dream. Fuck.

At this point it may seem clear the thought path I follow but I’d like to talk about the other two pairs briefly.

Ahsoka: Her dream is finding Sabine. It can also be seen as her dream to help Shin. (Sobbing don’t mind me) The madness is the path that lies ahead. Taking on Thrawn. Or perhaps she finds it mad to have found Ezra after all these years. Ow.

Sabine: Do i really need to explain these ones?????? Dreams: Ezra. Shin. (Gayass.) Becoming a Jedi. Madness: How she got to Ezra, what she has yet to tell him, etc. That’s quite a long list if I start thinking about it critically…

And bonus rounds!

Thrawn: Thrawns dreams of course are to leave this forsaken galaxy and begin reforming the imperial remnants. You know, the ones Senator BitchassXiorno says “dOeSn’T eXiSt.” I sincerely hope he sees the err of his ways. Don’t fuck with Hera Syndulla. Anyway, his madness is also the same as his dream. With a the very real possibility of Sabine and Shin forming a temporary at minimum alliance..( maybe, just maybe, a really scary powerful Baylan) his plans could quickly be turned to ruin. But he’s ready for that so I am eager to see how this plays out. But fighting this fight would be one of madness. He is overextended and TIRED. He wants his Sheer force back so he can emit his extreme tactical prowess. He literally has an UNDEAD ARMY. FROM MAGIC. IF THAT ISNT MAD I DONT KNOW WHAT IS.

Morgan Elsbeth: Her dreams are smaller and more centric, as pointed out by Thrawn. She dreams to crush any presence of the Rebels immediately and without hesitation. We also haven’t gotten that deep into this characters psyche but I really think a deep part of her has a good reason for being so frequently valuable to the core plan. She’s quite intimidating, and I think they’ve been slowly prepping her for something even more grand than her construction of the warp ring. The night mothers, of course. Not Thrawn himself. Madness, could also be tied in with prior reasoning. Many would think her mad purely based off the fact she’s a Nightsister in the first place.

That was a lot more than I thought I was gonna write that was fun. I hope my rambling has some coherence!