#and I know a lot of these are memories that my source memories would normally mask because the emotions are the same

[5starssz]

All For Me

Paige Bueckers x fem reader

Your two year relationship with collegiante basketball star Paige Bueckers ends suddenly in both of your senior year. You couldn’t seem to detach yourself from her even though Paige had seemed to move on. Once you graduated and Paige was doing her 5th year, Paige finally realizes what she lost.

All For Me- Mariah The Scientist

!Warnings! Angst

Purple= Paige

Pink=You

All For Me-Part one

One Year Ago

“Why are you doing this?”, my voice was low, heavy with all the emotions I was forced to bear in that moment. No one expects the person they thought was THE ONE to break up with them on a random Wednesday in December at 2am. Paige sat across from me as we both sat on the floor of a tight hallway in her residence hall. It was an empty hallway with no dorm rooms where we would meet. Paige’s eyes shifted down to the ground, avoiding eye contact with me. “I just can’t do this anymore”, she bluntly stated. “You’re lying Paige, i’ve done nothing but be the person you needed. I grew for you Paige, we grew together. What can’t you not do?!”, you emotionally explained. My voice being unstable due to the puddles forming in my eyes. Paige lifted her head, eyes dialed on mine. For once I couldn’t read her. There was nothing behind those blue eyes that were once filled with love. “I’m sorry”, was the last thing she said to me as she got up and walked off. ‘I’m sorry’ the last words I thought would be exchanged between us. I sat in the same spot until 4am hoping she would run back to me and say she didn’t mean anything she said, i really hoped. She didn’t.

Current

I woke up in my small disheveled apartment to my phones alarm sounding in my ear. Ive lived in this apartment since my Junior year of college. I had a showing for a house that’s up for Sale about thirty minutes from me. I did my normal morning work routine: Brush my teeth, skin care, makeup, hair, and fish for an outfit. Luckily last night I felt like being organized and picked my work outfit the night before, a grey pant suit and some black heels. I hated my work attire but I gotta do what I gotta do. I headed out a few minutes early so I could grab a coffee before I had to drive to the house. My normal coffee shop was closed so unfortunately I have to venture onto campus for coffee. ‘I’m praying i don’t see anyone’, I say to myself knowing exactly who that ‘anyone’ was. The drive isn’t far, which was the goal when I first rented the apartment. I parked in a parking lot next to the shop, walking in and immediately being hit with the scent of coffee and pastries. Due to my amazing luck, the line was extremely long. “fuck it, a girl needs her coffee”, i said quietly walking into the line. As I stood in the line I heard a large group of people laugh, it didn’t catch my attention that much to pull my eyes off my phone. The laughing continued until the sound of a breaking plate made the whole establishment fall into silence. My head quickly turned to the source of the sound. “oh my god”, I said out loud when my brain finally processed what I’ve been looking at. A group of girls in dark blue sweat suits and one standing up with her hands rested on her head. Her eyes shifted around the small shop realizing all eyes were on her. Her eyes were met with mine and my heart dropped. Her eyes grew and her hands dropped to her side. Everyone else around us had gone back to whatever they were doing before and the rest of the girls started laughing at Paige and helping clean up. Not Paige though, she remained in the same spot maintaining eye contact with me. ‘I can’t do this today’, I thought to myself breaking the eye contact with her. I can’t really tell but it looked like she was….sorry? or sad? I can’t read her like I once could. Her eye contact was so captivating, it brought back a flood of memories in that short amount of time. I was left in deep thought in the middle of this long ass line. “Hey”, the voice broke me out of my deep dive into memories. My eyes moved to the right of me to be face to face with her. “Hi Paige”, I said to her with a small smile. “You look great…..and i’ve been thinking lately and I’m sorry about how I ended things with us-“. I cut her off. ��I’m sorry Paige but I don’t think this is the time or place for this conversation. I have a house showing to get to”. “I understand. I shouldn’t have dumped all this shit on you right here, right now. We can talk later?”. I grabbed my coffee off the counter and turned back to Paige. “yeah, I still have your number. See you later Paige”. I squeezed my way through the crowd of busy people and walked out the double glass doors quickly until I felt something on my arm. I stopped to turn around and saw Paige grasping onto my forearm. “Paige I-“. “I know you have to go but just know I never closed the door on us……I’m stupid as shit and thought there was someone else for me. I fucked up and i’m so sorry”. Her voice sounded like she was hurt, like she really regrets it. But she left me for someone else?! “We’ll talk Paige”. I said walking away and out of her grasp. I still can’t hate her though, I cant bring myself to hate her. My heart still beats faster for her like it did when we were deep in love, I don’t get it. The only thing I was left thinking was ‘what did that girl have on me?’

————————————————————————

to be continued….

[thewalrusespublicist]

"Tbh I was starting to feel a bit down about my blog and what I was putting out ( the eternal crisis on how to give full answers and opinions without being stupid, boring and annoying lol)"

OMG no way! Your blog is one of the best here! What i love the most is reading the analysis and meta from the users, there's always more information and good takes, and yours are always quite deep and insightful.

I would love if you share your opinions about Stuart as well. I feel like he is obviously more sanctified that he should be since he died young (like that insane quote from his mom saying that Brian told her that Stuart could have been the Beatles' manager, no way lol) and i feel his memory has been used to attack Paul, sometimes in a very unfair way. Like, i don't deny the teenage drama and jealousy that Paul felt about him but he *was* a shitty bass player and the band was Paul's future, he was allowed to criticized him not only for being John's new bestie. I also think John played with them both but i lack of your eloquence so i will love to read your take about it.

Hi anon! And the other anons!

Thank you again and to all the other messages I got, they were extremely sweet and really made my day. :)

From my inbox, it's clear you guys want to know about Stu and his role in the Beatles legacy. Well you asked for it and a novel you shall have. Be warned this might be the longest post I've done so grab like a drink or something.

A few disclaimers: I wish and had intended for this to be more of a deep dive into Stu as a whole person rather than just his relationship with John and Paul. Unfortunately I just didn't have the space to do it. If you want to know more about Stu I would highly recommend @eppysboys' blog which is the source for all things Stu Sutcliffe and where I got a lot of this info. Please check their stuff out. Also, I'm going to be a bit blunter on this than maybe I usually am because this topic has been irritating me for some time. Oh also I’m trying my best to answer a lot of asks in one post so please forgive if I don’t fully answer your specific ask about this!

Stu in a perfect world should be a fandom darling: an exciting cipher, a handsome artistic talent that died way too soon who had a major influence in the early Beatles style. It's like there’s this secret other James Dean looking mf Beatle hidden away to uncover, that's cool and he is cool! The problem is that he’s sort of becomes radioactive to talk about in a normal way due to how he's been portrayed and utilised in some biographies and fandom spaces, particularly those that have been infected by John Lennon aspirational boy bestie syndrome. As those types of spaces cannot seem to exist without tearing down Paul to prop John up as their special lil guy, Stu as John's other best friend has become the ideal heavy object to hit Paul McCartney over the head with. It's like a corrosive element, the minute Stu hits a Beatles bio, the biographer suddenly loses all training in objectivity and source work and starts waxing lyrical about 100 percent reliable never biased or wrong Saint Stu of Hamburg who died for our condom arson sins and that Paul McCartney should feel bad about every day of his life for not worshipping Stu and not accepting his own ‘place’ in life as John's just-some-guy placeholder best friend. I’ve personally seen so many posts and forums where Stu being mentioned leads to a legion of comments about how Paul could never have been Stu (correct both ways) and how John would never have even glanced at Paul for much longer if Stu had been alive. Sidenote: If you seriously think that the musical savant from down the road whom John went on to produce the most prolific song writing partnership in history with couldnt have kept his attention for long then I'm begging you on hands and knees to get your head out of the arse of your John Lennon body pillow and be serious. But anyway…

This boy bestie battle royale approach has in turn lead to a reflex reaction where Stu gets studiously ignored by other sections of the fandom as a precedent has been set that shining a light on him diminishes Paul and John's relationship with Paul. It's frustrating because if people weren't so keen to cut Paul out of his own story then we would get a much better nuanced view of every single person involved.

So let's put aside all of our defenses, cut the John Lennon loved one ranking system bullshit and lets look at the actual question here which is what was John and Stu's relationship really like and what did he mean to John?

John and Stu met at art college a year or so after Paul and John met. Up to that point John and Paul had their fun little codependant thing going on but Stu quickly became a huge fixture in John's life. Stu had things that Paul couldn't really offer at that point in time. John was at his heart a musician who aspired to be seen as an artist (he would later express surprise that he didn't become an artist). Stu was the passionate artist who knew tons about the art of the period that could teach and inspire John. Their creative leanings meant they could work on projects together and share art notebooks and poetry. (Including yes the one with anti-semitic story which I mention again as I believe it's an important thing to remember when it comes to both John and Stu and the culture of the time.) Stuart by the sounds of it was even writing a novel about John at the time of his death. They were fascinated and inspired by each other.

So, creatively they fired each other up but more importantly perhaps, Stu and John were peers. It's funny to think about when you see the Beatles later but at the time Paul and George were the kids in their school uniform coming to see their cool older friend at art school. That's an important divide. When Paul and George's parents insisted their kids do their homework and go to bed, John and Stu could stay up and talk all hours of the night, which they did. They also could rent a place together and spend long hours chatting (despite John moving out later after realising electricity cost money lol.) There's a different dynamic that the age similarity offered as well. Whilst Paul would later somewhat grow into this role, Stu could act as an authority figure to John as well as open up to John in a way you can really only do with your peers. Stu was the person John opened up to throughout Stu's life:

How long can one go on writing and writing like you. I now don’t really know who I’m writing to or why it’s quiet peculiar. I usually write like this and forget about it but if I put it in a little part of my [almost?] secret self in the hands of someone miles away who will wonder what the hell is going on or just pass it off as toilet paper. Anyway I don’t care really what happens because when I think about it, it’s so bloody unimportant – but what is important who has the right to say that this letter is not important and this is a something any way – anyway – anyway – yeah! I wonder what it would be like to be a cretin or something. I bet it’s gear. & how are you keepin Stuart old chap are you as ok – is life as good – bad shite, great – wonderful as it was or is it just a thousand years of nothing and coolness on and on and on. I think this is it Goodbye Stu don’t write out of – er what is it? well not because you think you ought to write when you feel like So goodbye (from John you know the one with glasses) ANYWAY BYE BYE see you soon I don’t know why I said that I remember a time when everyone I loved hated me because I hated them so what so what so fucking what I remember a time when belly buttons were knee high when only shitting was dirty and everything else clean + beautiful I can’t remember anything without a sadness So deep that it hardly becomes known to me so deep that its tears leave me a spectator of my own STUPIDITY + so I go rambling on with a hey nonny nonny nonny no

Extract from a letter to Stuart Sutcliffe from John Lennon, 1961

By lots of accounts Stu was gentle but firm when it came to telling John he'd gone too far. John references this aspect of Stu to Hunter Davies:

"I looked up to Stu. I depended on him to tell me the truth. Stu would tell me if something was good and I'd believe him."

The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (Hunter Davies)

In this way I kind of see Stu as a proto-Yoko. John was so insecure and uncertain about his grip on the world and reality that he relied on Stu to be his point of reference and guide. Paul did this too later and I think in Hunter Davies John mentions this, but not at this time period and not as much due to their competitiveness. This may be why some people saw Stu as the person that really understood John at this time period:

"During the turbulent adolescence that prefaced a turbulent manhood, hardly anyone knew Lennon as intimately as Stuart Sutcliffe. If they weren't exactly David and Jonathan, June Furlong, one of the life models at Liverpool's Regional College of Art, had "never seen two teenagers as close as those two."

The Gospel According To Lennon by Alan Clayson

Now this person likely never met John and Paul together but this is only one of many similar quotes and even Julia captain of John and Paul's friendship boat seems to agree there was a period where Stu dominated and Paul 'kept his distance' from the John-Cyn-Stu 'menage-a-trois'. But the friendship wasn't perfect and his position as John's ultimate best friend was never iron clad. This is best outlined by the shit they pulled when John convinced him to join on Bass for the Beatles.

Despite being John's best friend, Stu was teased and bullied:

"They argued as usual amongst themselves, but most of all they picked on Stu, the newest member of the group. John, George and Paul had been with each other long enough to know that rows and arguments and criticism didn't mean much. If it did, you just argued back. "We were terrible," says John. "We'd tell Stu he couldn't sit with us, or eat with us. We'd tell him to go away, and he did." At one hotel they stayed at, a variety show had just left. There had been a dwarf in the show and they found out which bed he had slept in and said that would have to be Stu's. They certainly weren't going to sleep in it. So Stu had to. "That was how he learned to be with us," says John. "It was all stupid, but that was what we were like."

The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (Hunter Davies)

Why John encouraged this I have no idea, maybe jealousy over Stu's looks and wanting to play people off each other? Things were tense in both Scotland and Hamburg, especially between Stu and Paul. As I said in my last post, the girls were fighting and it was mutual. Paul was mad for both fair and immature teenage-boy reasons. Stu could not be bothered with the bass most of the time and couldn't really play well and was only there as he was '(John's) best friend' (ouch for Paul). Paul conversely had given up higher education to be there and was sending lots of money back home. He also was dating the girl Paul fancied. Stu was popular with the new group and also did mean things like help John steal Paul's money when money was really tight for him. Paul in turn was a passive aggressive, jealous and mean. It all came to ahead in the punch up onstage which according to Spitz came about from Paul wanting money back and saying that Stu could borrow some from Astrid. Stu goes for him and reports vary from full-on bust up to embarrassing scuffle. Stu then goes to where Astrid and Paul's gf Dot are, demands Dot leaves and goes on a rant about Paul. Now all of this must be framed in the context of Stu receiving increasing brain damage from his condition that seemingly lead to mood swings and anger. Nevertheless, the mutual needling and anger, as well as John's refusal to do/say fuck all about it, especially given how protective John was of Stu, suggests that it wasn’t straightforward and/or John may have been playing some games to make both feel threatened. This would also make sense as to why we hear conflicting accounts of John and Stu being the centre of everything and everyone else in orbit AND John and Paul being the centre and everyone else playing catch-up, as well as John giving Paul the lead to take him round the Reeperbahn when John got dressed in the gorilla costume. (I know Paul may have just been the closest there but that always gave off bestie behaviour to me.)

(I did get an ask about how John and Paul's friendship survived it, I think it was damaged by Hamburg. When Paul got back home he got a job at a construction site and there's just a vibe of everything being a bit on tenterhooks. John also acts a bit weird at the period, not talking to anyone for a few weeks then making a lot of weird demands from Paul. I'm really not sure what to make of it.)

Even when he's back in Liverpool, John still writes long letters to Stu and vice-versa. I can't find it at all but I’ve read a really sad interview with John saying he missed his best mate and it's a shame that he's not with them. He had no idea at that point that Stu had already died of a brain hemorrhage at 21.

John is said to have gone into hysterics when he found out Stu had died. A lot of people who've spoken about this time (Aunt Mimi, his sister Julia, the Exsis) concur that at this point Stu was his best friend and the death shattered him. He even told Astrid he wished he could give his life for Stu’s. This is backed up by the fact that John never forgot Stu and his shadow lingered for the rest of John's life:

Stu was recalled in In My Life

Years later, after John composed the first of his truly poignant and heartfelt Beatles songs, "In My Life"—with its lines about "friends I still can recall/some are dead and some are living"—he revealed to me that the two people he had had uppermost in mind were myself and Stuart Sutcliffe. And then he stunned me with a statement that I'd never heard him address to anyone—least of all to another man. "You know, Pete," he said softly, "I do love you. But," he quickly added, "I loved Stuart as well."

Weird that Paul isn't mentioned surely you think that he would be mentioned if Pete was there too okay, okay my tin hat is going away this isn't the time

Pete Shotton, Nicholas Schaffner, John Lennon: In My Life

In 1965 John drew Stu on a postcard

He apparently said this about Stu prior to sending the postcard, prompted by an article about Stuart.

The card had been sent from Genoa mid-way through the Beatles' Italian tour. [...] But the conversation had become maudlin when I reminded him that he was going to talk to me for an article about Stuart. [...] In that sad telephone conversation before they set off for Milan, I asked him if he was happy: 'I'd be a lot happier if Stuart was still part of us,' he said, 'The Beatles would be complete.' And before he rang off he said 'Ill send you something.'

He also appears on the cover of Sgt Pepper

As mentioned, Stu gets mentioned in Hunter Davies in terms of wistfulness and guilt AND he gets a mention in John's insane 'if I were a homosexual' ramblings in early 70s. According to Yoko, John also wanted Yoko to write letters to him and didn't think it would be strange because Stu wrote letters to him.

I have a pet theory that as with a lot of things for John, his unresolved grief over Stu really came to the fore in the late 60s now that he had actually had a chance to sit down and think about things. I believe it was partially why he wanted Yoko to write letters and why he gets mentioned in the early 70s as a collaborator/best friend and not in 1980 where John only gives that credit to Paul and Yoko. I think with the cracks with Paul, John had started to think back on his old friend and guide and what advice he would give.

Stuarts presence is still felt throughout the seventies:

“He told me everything. He loved to talk about Hamburg. There were no secrets. It was the kind of life I never knew…. It meant total freedom. At his side always was Stuart, sweet Stuart. There wasn’t a time in John’s life when he didn’t think about Stuart. He spoke always of his love and respect for Stuart.”

Yoko discussing Stu in When They Were Boys: The True Story of the Beatles’ Rise to the Top by Larry Kane

Coming to grips with his death is also present in Skywriting

SEAN O’HAIRE: What happened to Stuart Cliff? DR. FISCHY: What happened was a full exchange of energy where it was not needed within the expression of your own self or in the energies involved around and about you. We cannot call it a happening. We’ll say it is an awakening, for in that way it has served an expression from the past to the present and to the future to where there shall be more of that incomplete vibration expressed to you in a more fuller understanding.

Skywriting by Word of Mouth, John Lennon

This isn't exhaustive but I think from all this it's pretty clear that John adored Stu, John grieved Stu and kept grieving Stu. Stu had a specific place in his life as a confidant that he tried to recreate with Yoko. At the time of Stu's death, he was John's best friend, probably slightly over Paul. Stuart had been able to be both a friend and paternal presence, a confidant and an artistic collaborator. His presence and loss was one of the foundational points in John's life.

But as we've been asked to play this stupid game and so many bios like to make a hoopla about it, were they at their closest ever as close as John and Paul were at their height?

No.

How do we know? Because John told us so:

" He [Paul] still is the closest friend I've ever had, except for Yoko, so I'm still close to him whatever goes on."

John Lennon to an interviewer, 1971

But Walrus! John just says shit! How do we know he isn't leaving out Stu because the press don't know Stu. Well true John does just say shit but this is at a time where John isn't the most glowing about Paul and he's had no problem mentioning Stu in this time period ('one of my best friends ever' would have made a similar point).

But Walrus again! If John picked Stu over Paul when they were young why wouldn't he be the boy bestie of all time, and why would John say that he was closer to Paul? Well, because of the environment and timings. Stu's death happened near the beginning of John and Paul's major bonding moments. If you look at their personal timeline, Paris, the Nerk twins, and getting signed happened just before Stu died. That's missing the major years of Beatlemania, Key West, LSD, Paul growing more into being John's peer and a load of other huge moments in their lives. It's like how John writes to Cyn in 1962 about wanting the house to themselves and not have Paul around all the time. Would you say because he feels closer to Cyn then that John in his overall lifetime loved Cyn more than Paul? No, because relationships change over time and theirs were no exception. (One thing to consider as well is that we don't yet have many letters between John and Paul during their Beatles years and earlier, probably because they were spending so much time with each other. We know a couple exist that Paul considers too personal for publication but I'm sure there are others. It's easy to understand what John felt for Stu as we have the letters, I think we would also have an easier time understanding what John felt for Paul if we had the equivalent of those.)

At the end of the day Paul was the man he believed he had a psychic bond with, the man he couldn’t shut up about, the man whom he’d conquered the world with with their endless collaboration, the man with a twin personality to him and according to John spent more time with throughout the 60s than he had with Yoko ever. To be frank if Paul had died in 67' I don't think this would have been a conversation.

As mentioned early, in early 1970s John elevates his partnership with Stu to his collaborations with Paul and Yoko but by 1980 he’s pretty clear that Paul and Yoko are their own category.

"I was saying to somebody the other day, “There’s only two artists I’ve ever worked with for more than a one night stand, as it were. That’s Paul McCartney, and Yoko Ono.” And I think that’s a pretty damned good choice!!"

John Lennon interview with DJ Dave Sholin, 1980

There are of course the what ifs. Would Stu still being alive mean that John was not as close with Paul? Maybe, highly doubtful though as the Beatles experience was so intense. If Stu remained a Beatle would John be as close with Paul? If Stu remained a Beatle he wouldn't be Stu so no. At the same time who knows what it would have been like if Paul and John were peers from the off? I said this to @the62ndbugsfan when it comes to Stu vs Paul (hi girl sorry i've made our chat a whole ass post lol) but to go a bit Wuthering Heights, soulmates are made as much from the earth as they are of the stars. What binds us is our experiences just as much as our personalities. There may be a universe where Stu and John took on the art world together or became inseparable bffs again after the Beatles disbanded, but it is not our universe. In this universe Stu tragically died and John and Paul chose to become Lennon/McCartney and artistically unite themselves forever.

Even going back to Stu's lifetime, I've said it before and I'll say it again I find it interesting that not only did John choose to go to Paris with Paul rather than pay to meet up with Stu somewhere but that they arranged to meet up with Juergen and nobody told Stu until they'd already gone. Stu was shocked and didn't know if it meant the end of the Beatles which is a pretty big thing for him not to know about. Why didn't John tell him if they're apparently still writing long letters? Was it because he really wanted to do this with Paul and didn't want to hurt Stu's feelings? And that's really the point I want to make here. Due to his trauma John was preoccupied with reinforcing ranking of relationships within his life. But the thing is friendship rankings are made up guidelines and the reality is far more complicated. You can have a designated best friend but feel closer to another friend at times, you can want to do one thing specifically with one friend and not the other for various reasons. You can (as I do) have more than one equal best friend. Friendship as with most relationships are in a constant state of flux and each friendship you have will give and mean a different thing, even if they are of similar value to you.

Paul may have ended up closer to John than Stu had been, but that doesen't make John's relationship with Stu any less special. Nor does Stu negate the significance of Paul. Whilst both fit into John's pattern of intense relationships and demands related to that, both had unique positions and meaning to him. Considering what I've gone into about John's closeness to Stu, it actually says something deeply, borderline unnervingly, intense about John and Paul that Paul pipped Stu to the post. Maybe it's time Beatles bios accept the fact that John Lennon just wouldn't be into them like that, stop using a tragically prematurely deceased young man as a prop in their jealous psychological warfare against Paul McCartney, stop perpetuating one of the most damaging games that John did to his loved ones and allow both relationships the space to shine and showcase the amazing talent that was the Beatles and those that surrounded them.

[thethingything]

apparently now we get to have flashbacks to the weird period between mid 2015 and late 2016 where our mental health took some absolutely wild hits, plus the odd flashback to mid 2017, so I guess it's time to deal with this stuff again

[gg-collective]

I don't particularly mean this in a "comparing my experiences to headmates'" way, but I have noticed how odd I feel next to our other introjects. The grand majority, if not all, of them are from hyperfixations/special interests-- things which we collectively have a lot of knowledge on. While I am from a series that we read the first book of, skimmed the second, and don't have any access to the third. I don't even particularly consider myself a fictive, despite that being, in all technicality, what I am. To top it off, I am not sure that my source would even be considered "popular" media-- at least, not with systems, as far as I have noticed. It is all a bit confusing, especially as someone who misses people I hardly remember. To feel connected to a life (or, lives), source trauma, and people I only have vague memories of is so... odd-feeling

[shepscapades]

... that lean makes me think of the lean Bdubs did in the syncing comic....which if course begs the question: Did Etho pick up this habit of leaning to indicate processing/suspicion from Bdubs or did Bdubs pick it up from Etho? (or is it just a good way to show that emotion in comic form XD) Also.... the hair clip... My impression is that the flashback is from pretty early on. Is the hair clip a precursor to the well known headband? In universe, why a headband? Since they both do wear headbands... Was the headband originally Bdub's? Is... I know Etho is scared during the whole Last Life thing... is he thinking that Bdubs is planning specifically on targeting one of the androids? Or is that his fear talking?

... And after all that speculating... Ouch, Poor Tango!! ( i know this is an important event for Tango, but we don't see any of his reaction or feelings about any of this yet)

Wonderful comic, as always, Shep!

WEEE These are such good questions omg :DDDD alright i couldn't shut up so i'm putting it under a read more =w=

this is basically a mini comic breakdown! just rambling about some of the dbhc plot and mecahnics >:D

The lean is such a fun detail, i didn't even realize the similarities-- but it's actually a really nice (totally intentional) callback! I think Etho absolutely picked up those mannerisms from Bdubs, the same way Doc did from Ren, and so on so forth-- the androids, especially throughout season 8 and last life, are using their partnered hermits (and the other hermits in general) to learn what it means to be and act human-- vocal mannerisms, physical mannerisms, learning emotions for the first time and what it means to feel them, everything! I kind of see Season 8 as their "young" period-- their first season, the season they learn who they are and develop some of their most iconic traits. Etho is still himself, shyness and stoicism and all, but he learns his whimsy and silliness and teasing nature from being with bdubs for so long :)

THE HAIR CLIP <333 Yeah Etho's "Replaying Memory" moment is when Doc was checking out his "wounds" / the damage he sustained (from the initial creeper blast that caused his deviation) for the first time! At the time of the memory, It had probably been a little while since the actual initial incident where Bdubs had covered him up a little bit to hide the damage, but i'm sure doc or someone else noticed before long LDFKGJDF so this is their first like... "checkup"! So Etho is pretty young here (Doc too, but he already has his robot arm at this point, so...), maybe within the first month or two of season 8. So he definitely normally wears a bandana at this point (the same band bdubs made him wear initially to cover up the forehead cracks a little), but he's clipped his bangs back here so Doc can get a better look at the damage :)

I have a LOT of feelings about Etho's mental dialogue throughout last life, and it's very complicated and i won't be able to shut up about it so that's for another post. I will say, I don't think Etho ever truly thought Bdubs would Boogey kill him (though, doubt is a very powerful thing, so it turns out). I think Etho is still puzzling Bdubs out (though he's definitely learned quite a lot about him), especially when it comes to more serious situations like this, so the unknowns are definitely the biggest sources of fear for him. He can only do so much with the data he currently has, and the idea that a weapon so sharp could permanently damage any of the androids... it's an unsettling thought, regardless of whoever the mostly likely victim ends up being. (I don't think Etho expects it to be Tango, either-- not until he sees that look in Bdubs' eyes 10 seconds before it happens. I think Doc's little speech about their models is just helpful information for the reader and a sense of foreshadowing (as well as a reminder for Etho of how Not-So-Indestructible he is/the other androids are), not so much that etho thinks it's going to be tango after recalling the memory. Same for Bdubs. I dont think bdubs decided to target Tango until he was staring the back of his neck down and realized he could take the opportunity before he lost it). Anyway i've already rambled too much /silly

And lastly, Yes. This is, besides his deviation, probably Tango's most formative moment. The second time he truly experiences rage. I don't know if I could do a comic or an illustration that truly does his rage moment justice after he wakes up post-respawn and has a meltdown trying to kill bdubs, but knowing that Skizz wasn't built until s9 and is therefore missing from Last Life (AKA, Tango has no one other than Etho and Bdubs), just... makes this betrayal so, so much more painful. This betrayal is very much about Tango's rage, but it's also about his sense of trust and safety and his understanding of the way the world works. Hermitcraft is safety and jokes and support, and sure there's a bit of death here and there, but this is unlike anything he's ever known-- it's adrenaline and fear and threats and betrayal and. Anyway what a normal meltdown to have! And Etho can do nothing to calm him down except hold him back from killing bdubs (there's something to be said there too, about Tango knowing for certain now that Bdubs obviously chooses Etho over himself (Because come on, Bdubs wouldn't have killed Etho. Let's be honest here), but knowing too that Etho is choosing bdubs by not letting Tango get the revenge he so rightfully deserves...) Anyway. I think i'll explode if i think about this more

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part thirty-two

summary: the end.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n:

the end!! omg!!guys thank you so much for being here through this whole story and this was LONG!! over 110k words of a lot of nonsense but to anyone who's made it this far,, ilysm. i'm gonna miss them!! stop they were everything to me :(

ANYWAY same with LTPF if you've read that, there will be an epilogue coming soon and also definitely more oneshots and maybe bonus content that i wish i included in the original series but just didn't make the cut. so stay tuned for that!!

if you liked this series, i'm obligated as well to plug my NEXT series that's coming soon, 'requiem'!! i am so excited about it so please follow me for updates on when that will be posted!! def soon!!

just one more time i wanted to say ily, and thank you :')

see you soon!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

You keep your books tucked firmly to your chest as you walk into your first class, wearing the spare clothes you brought to Sejanus's house on Friday just in case you had to change. In case you spilled something on your white dress, or just felt the need to change- ironically enough.

Your normal seat in the front centre of the room is obviously free, considering also that you were quite early this morning. You had some readings you needed to catch up on anyway, in order to be prepared for midterms which were apparently coming up quickly.

It isn't long after you open your book before others begin to shuffle in, and much to your surprise, you feel the chair next to you pull back and see someone sit down. "Hi, Victor." The boy's voice says, forcing you to look up from your book.

Dark hair and dark eyes, you think you remember his name was Cancor. "Oh, my name is Y/N." You correct him kindly, adjusting nervously in your seat.

"I know that." He says, eyes merely slits as he seems to look past your own eyes and into your soul.

"You're... You're Cancor, correct? I don't believe we've properly met." You add, sitting up straighter.

"Crane." He states. "My last name is Crane."

"That's... yes that's a lovely name." You smile nervously, unsure what to say but still wanting to fill the silence he seemed so comfortable with. "Alliteration is such a fun thing to consider when naming a child..."

"It means spider." He states. "Did you ever meet my sister?" He asks, ignoring your nervous ramblings.

"No, no I don't believe I have. What is her name?" You ask.

"Arachne." The boy says, raising an eyebrow at you expectantly while you take a moment to wrack your mind to place it. He's acting as if you should know her, and suddenly you feel like you do.

You tilt your head slightly, allowing the memory to hit you like a freight train.

The funeral.

All you really remembered until now was being chained to a truck and paraded down the street you now recognize as the Corso, the body of his sister's tribute swinging above you while people screamed and cursed at you. Then, Coryo sang the national anthem.

"Oh, yes. Of course." You nod slightly, a frown settling over your features. "I am so sorry for your loss. Truly."

"No, you're not." He spits. "You don't care, and the fact that you're pretending to is just vile. She meant less than nothing to you and those animals- otherwise, she would still be here!"

You stammer, pushing yourself back in your seat as you grip the bottom of the chair. "No, no- I am sorry, I am. That should not have happened. It- It was horrible."

"Cancor." You silently thank the universe for your professor's quick intervention. "If you wouldn't mind returning to your usual seat and leaving Miss Y/L/N alone."

"We were just talking." Cancor replies, suddenly sweet as honey- cool and collected as if he wasn't just berating you over your faults in his sister's death.

"Go." Dr. Nero tells him again, nodding up toward the back of the lecture hall. "Before I am forced to ask you to leave."

The boy sighs in quiet frustration, slightly aggressive about his movements as he grabs his bag and stomps up the stairs.

You look up to your professor who greets the look with a curt nod and the smallest of sympathetic smiles.

It does nothing to quell the lightness you feel that usually signifies the trembling of your hands, which would soon spread. You close your eyes trying to take deep breaths that wouldn't come, but all you can see is the bodies of Arachne Crane and her tribute by the bars that had separated them. You have to open your eyes to remind yourself you aren't standing in the street, wrists still shackled to a truck. You can feel the chains weighing your wrists down to the desk as you think about it. You had almost entirely forgotten about the whole event- and the guilt of that was suddenly clawing its way up your throat. Cancor had never had the privilege of forgetting the way you had.

Quickly, you shove your books into your bag and stand, heading for the door. "Y/N." Dr. Nero's voice forces you to stop and you just turn to look at him, knowing full well you're unable to speak. "It's 8:58."

You nod slightly, looking down at the marble flooring that lay between you. "Start without me." You mumble, not giving him the chance to respond before you're leaving, accidentally bumping shoulders with some of the final students to enter.

You hadn't missed a single class yet, attendance was important, but right now you couldn't care less. Why should you even have the privilege of attending classes at the university in place of some of the academy's brightest minds who never got the chance? Like Arachne, and the three other mentors who were killed because of the games. You knew it wasn't necessarily your fault, but you understood Cancor's anger being directed at you. In a twisted way, you felt like you deserved it. They were meant to survive, you never were. Yet, here you were- a walking reminder to those students' friends and families that for some reason, they had to lose someone they shouldn't have.

You quickly pace down the nearly empty hall, trying to hold back your tears as long as you could. Feeling like you can't breathe is making it exponentially harder, and you wonder how you even walked out of the arena as it was. Adrenaline is a crazy beast- and you wished you had some leftover now. Sometimes, in moments like this, you wonder if you had used up your life's supply of the chemical the last time you were here in the Capitol.

Coryo was already running late after spending probably far too long conversing with your brother in the car, but he couldn't resist taking a detour into the arts building. He would just pass through, past your room just to glance inside and see if you were really there. Just to get a look at you.

He doesn't need to, though, turning a corner and just catching a glimpse of your hair as you disappear with a left turn at the end of the corridor. He was sure it was you.

Walking past your classroom he looks anyway, just to double-check, and as he suspected, you were gone.

He quickens his pace, taking advantage of his height difference over you to try and catch up with more rushed steps. "Y/N?" He calls out as he turns the same corner, but you're already hidden from view and the door at the far end of the hall is slamming shut.

As he continues down the corridor, a furrow knits its way into his brow. You must be headed to where you normally eat lunch, that is all that would make sense.

Without thinking, he follows. The courtyard is almost empty, aside from your frame curled up on the grass, knees tucked to your chest and bag discarded halfheartedly beside you on the damp grass. The sun casts a shadowed glow where it isn't blocked by trees or buildings in its path of rising, the grass is wet under his shoes as he quickly approaches you.

"Hey- hey, Y/N/N, it's me." He calls out as he walks up behind you. You turn your head, and then stand quickly.

"It- It's okay. I'm fine." You stammer, wiping your cheeks frantically. "You should g-go, you're already late."

"I'm not leaving you like this." He shakes his head, holding a hand out toward you as you avoid his eyes. "Tell me what happened, love. Talk to me."

You shake your head, shoulders backed to an invisible wall as you hold your palms over your face. You can't look at him right now- especially right now, when all you want is for him to hold you.

"You're okay. I'm not gonna hurt you." He whispers, taking a hesitant step closer. By now, you know full well he wouldn't hurt you. Not in the way he's saying, at least.

"You should go." You choke over the words that feel heavy in your mouth.

"Y/N, love, I told you, I'm not going anywhere." He repeats calmly.

"I want to go home." You sob. "I shouldn't have won, I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't even be alive!" You say, voice picking up in frustration. "It's not fair. Nothing is fair, nothing."

He frowns as you lower your hands, clenching your fists at your sides. "Of course, you should be here."

"You don't get it!" You snap, and you hardly even sound like yourself.

This was it. This was your breaking point.

Coryo is taken back by your outburst, almost flinching at the abruptness of your shift. He had never seen you angry- he didn't even know it was possible. Of course it was. He'd spent all this time, all this energy trying to convince people that you were human. Anger comes with that, hand in hand like your cat and the fur that's clinging to his clothes at this very moment. You couldn't have one without the other. "Then explain it to me." He urges you, trying to sound anything other than defensive.

Your eyes soften, as if you're suddenly realizing that your anger was not entirely placed on him. You shake your head. "It's not... I cannot explain it and that is the worst part." You sigh, but the rage flashes in your eyes again as you look down. "Why was it me and not any of them? Why did so many of your classmates have to die? Why did Marcus escape only to face a worse fate than the rest of us, when he tried to help me too? Why am I enrolled at this stuffy university when my spot belongs to Arachne Crane in rights?"

"Arachne Crane?" Coryo mutters, eyes widening with confusion while he wonders where on earth that came from. He shakes his head quickly to dismiss the thought. "Marcus tried to save you, yes, that could have been you who escaped, that's true- but you were too busy trying to save me. And you did." He knows better than to accuse you of regretting that. He knows you don't.

When you don't reply, just staring at him head on now, frustrated and confused, he continues. "If we're going by this unexplainable logic of the universe, I think that it was you because instead of saving yourself, you saved me. And you did it again in the arena, when you went back for Jessup when I was looking at the screen and begging you silently to just ditch him. Same exact thing when you tried to get little Wovey up into the rafters with you, and hell! When you stared down the barrel of my gun, shaking head to toe from fear just to save the life of the Mayor's daughter, who was nothing but awful to everyone!" He says, gesticulating wildly to get his point across. "I've been trying to tell you for months, Y/N. It was you because you are the only person in this whole damn country who cares about someone other than themselves."

You just shake your head, and it's frustrating to him that you're unwilling to accept what he knows to be true. "It didn't work." You sniff. "You're the only one who survived me."

"Listen to me," Coryo says, reaching out and holding your face in his hands- throwing caution to the wind regarding how he knows to handle your panic attacks. "I survived because I had to learn how to love you."

You look into his eyes, flitting your own back and forth between them in an attempt to place any signs of deception. Blue, baby blue. You find none.

"And I did. And I'll love you every day for the rest of our lives. I don't want you to think for a minute that I'm embarrassed by that fact." Your eyes are squeezed shut by the time he finishes speaking, his thumbs swiping over the tear stains left down your cheeks by anger.

"It's not your fault." You mumble, shaking your head under his hold. "I do not fault you for being embarrassed."

"I'm not." He says again. "Look at me, please, love."

You pry your eyes open to face him.

"I've... I've had all this pressure my whole life to be perfect, and now it's worse than ever and I should have never let that get pushed onto you. I want you to be happy, that's all. I want you to be free to do whatever you want, and right now, the cost of that comes with who we are in public. Do you understand?"

"Yes." You say softly, but he can see that's not fully true.

"Here, in the Capitol, everything is a social ladder. We cannot marry who we wish, we marry who we should. Rarely ever do kids here date for fun."

"Like Lucy Gray and the silly mistakes she made over and over again with Billy Taupe." You comment, trying to lighten the tension you feel radiating off his body.

"Yes." He chuckles, smiling hopefully at you, relieved that you understood. "But I want nothing more on this earth than for you to be the one I spend my life with. I want to make you happy, but first, in order to do that, you have to be someone that they will accept. And I am so, so sorry I didn't explain this to you sooner, but I want you to know I've never wanted you to change."

"We don't need them to like me to be happy. That will be an endless uphill battle, Coryo." You shake your head slightly, placing your hands over his as they slide down onto your neck.

"It will be uphill but we can do it." He assures you quickly. "You're already well-liked, we're-"

"Were you not happy in Twelve?" You ask, a sad look in your eyes.

He stops, tilting his head slightly at you. He was happy in Twelve, now that he considers it. He hadn't thought about it, he was so focused on hating everything but you that he just assumed it was awful, but really, it wasn't. Not in hindsight."Is that what you want?"

You smile in response. No one had asked in months what you wanted. What you really wanted.

"What do you want, love? I'll pack up and move us back to Twelve tomorrow if that's what you really want." He says again, nothing short of desperation in his tone.

Faced with the option, you're really not sure. Yes, of course, you'd like to go home. It was very tempting. But Coryo was right, this education was important. You imagine for a moment the life you could have back home if you stuck it out a few more years. And maybe by then, you'll be better accepted here. Maybe by then, the Capitol will be a different place, and you'll be truly happy here. With him, and he will have the power to make the games go away.

"No, no." You shake your head. "I want to do something splendid...something heroic or wonderful that won't be forgotten after I'm dead. I don't know what, but I'm on the watch for it and mean to astonish you all someday." You say, and he can tell from your change in notation that the words are not your own. It was something new, unlike what he had heard from you before. He smiles. "I want to be with you, first and foremost."

"You'll always be with me. Where you go, I follow." He assures you. "I was happy in Twelve, if only because I had you."

"That should not be enough, though." You insist.

"It has been for you, hasn't it?" He asks, and you nod, biting your tongue.

He grins. "Then I promise, love, that would be more than enough for me."

"O-okay." You agree, suddenly flushed by his stare. Coryo smiles, looking briefly at your lips as you speak. To him, they seemed more tempting now than ever.

He starts to lean in and you move your head back quickly, a worried look crossing your face and you look around. "Coryo, we-"

"I don't care." He says quickly, gently pulling you back to him and pressing his lips to yours. Consequences are the last thing on his mind right now.

You take hold of the front of his delicately pressed shirt, pulling him closer with his hands on your neck. Here, in the middle of the university courtyard with the sun shining down on your back, everything is okay and at least for now, the cold night has given way to a warm, sunny morning.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @cascadingbliss

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[mirensiart]

Speaking of hard to identify sources of pain/high pain tolerance, I wanted to share a headcanon that would be a “fun” little mystery for the chain:

To me, it makes sense that Wild would have fibromyalgia and not just because of the extent of his injuries. The shrine had to turn all of his nerves back on so it wouldn’t surprise me if that caused them to fire of pain signals randomly with no explanation.

The thing with fibro is that it has like half a dozen different kinds of pain that have no consistent triggers and just flare up without warning. Things like not getting enough sleep or food, stress, and overstimulation (including from pain, which is fun) are common sources but sometimes the body is just like 🔪💥🔥 for ✨mystery reasons✨

So suddenly everyone feels like all their skin is on fire but no one’s injured (not even Twilight, for once!) and it takes them forever to figure out who’s even in pain. When they do eventually figure it out everyone has to explain that no, that’s not a thing skin normally does, why would you think that? But if it’s been like that since Wild stumbled out of the shrine how is he supposed to know? This is like having to learn what a normal hylian range of motion is all over again!

Oh my god this is so good!!!

I remember someone sent me an ask with a similar idea, that since he woke up without memories all he's known is a life with chronic pain and doesn't realize that that isn't normal

I do hc him to be one of the links with highest pain tolerances, but he's very sensitive still.

I do like this a lot, thank you so much for sharing!!!

[spacechip707]

Sweet Wishes

Summary: When MC presents him with the first birthday cake he’s had in decades, Xavier finds his emotional defenses wrecked.

A slight AU to the cake scene for Xavier’s bday event. Fluff and sugar ahead. 

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A/N: Xavier’s bday week isn’t over yet!! So please enjoy this quick little Love and Deepspace AU fic because I wanted him to cry at some point during the event. 

Dedicating this little fic to my twin and bestie @my-soul-sings as a thank you for resurrecting me out of the writer’s block grave <3 

Also available to read here on Ao3! 

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It’s the cake that destroys him. 

Out of the countless Wanderers and battles he’d faced, out of all the failed attempts to find her, the pain he’d felt then had only fueled him to press forward. To what?

He hadn’t known. 

Even when this girl appeared in the no hunt zone like an angel from his dreams, he knew it wasn’t her. So he refused to allow himself to feel anything more than a quiet fondness.

For decades, he’d kept distant from most people. They were temporary factors in his existence, doomed to disappear or fall away with the turn of a new generation.

But MC…

There was no magnanimous event that caused the shift within him. Rather, her little gestures gradually whittled away at his centuries-old shield without his knowing.

It was the mundane afternoon calls, asking what he ate or wondering if he’d like to join her for a walk. The glimmer in her eyes when they played cards was another contributor, a tell-tale sign of her good-hand. When Xavier felt especially generous, he’d let her win just to hear her laugh, even at his expense. 

Maybe worst of all were the random encounters—at the store, on the bus, while hunting. Her face would visibly brighten to the point Xavier often debated if he’d subconsciously manipulated his own Evol just to emphasize her wonder. It was as if seeing him were the highlight of her entire life.

All of it deconstructed his defenses, culminating to this single point in time. The final blow. 

“Wh-what’s this?” he stammers out when she retrieves a lighter from her pocket. 

She stares at him with feign disbelief. “You’re not so old that you don’t know what a candle on cake is, right?” 

He never disclosed his age, and he is old, so he could certainly play into that. 

But he can’t manage it, even as a joke. His chest is tightening too quickly as she lowers the flame onto the wick. The last time he’d had a cake in front of him…a candle…she was there too. Well, not her, but…

“Happy Birthday to you,” she begins to sing slightly off key with a synchronized tap of her fingers. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Xav…” 

His unfinished name drifts into the air as she catches a glimpse of his face in the moonlight. Her eyes widen in panic. He’s confused until he finally gets a grip on his present reality and notices the purple and white fondant blurring together in his vision. 

“Are you—are you crying?” she says before hurriedly grappling at some nearby napkins. 

As if the acknowledgment breaks an internal dam, tears begin to spill freely onto his cheeks. He makes no effort to stop them, mostly because he’s stupefied by their existence. A breathy laugh catches in his throat when MC dabs a napkin against his now damp face.

“It’s not that…” he tries before his voice wavers. His face heats with MC’s concern anchored upon him, the soaked cloth clenched in her fists. “I’m sorry—you can finish singing.” 

Her eyes search his in an agonizing stretch of vulnerable silence. She’s young, and unlike him, memories of years past…lives past…don’t dim the sparkle in them. 

“I hear a lot of people get the birthday blues,” she says quietly, her hand lifting to gently rest atop his head. “It’s normal to feel like time is going too fast or that you’re behind.”

The irony of the statement slams into him, and more moisture accumulates at the edges of his lashes. Time was often the source of his loneliness, but not in the way she was thinking. 

Alarm flashes across her features again as she swipes another tissue against his face. “Ah! Sorry, I’m so bad at this,” she says, stepping closer. 

His hands catch her wrists, stopping her frantic ministrations midway. “MC,” he says, another breath of laughter escaping him at the sight of her distress on his account. “I’m not sad, I promise.” 

The pang in his chest is painful, but it’s tenderness, not melancholy, that causes the sensation. 

“But— “ she begins before her shoulders deflate. “I didn’t want to make you cry.”

It’s almost said as an apology—an unnecessary one. Xavier had grown more indifferent about his birthday with every passing year. It wasn’t until MC insisted they did something other than read a book did he realize how her strains of affection had wriggled their way into his head. 

For the first time in years, he was enjoying this day. Not that he wanted to celebrate himself…rather, he wanted to celebrate with her. 

The chair creaks against the cement as he stands, his hands still clutching hers. With a light tug, she loses her balance and staggers forward into his chest. He envelops her in his arms, savoring her touch when she relaxes into his embrace. 

“I’m grateful,” he says after a long moment, her hair soft against his face. “That was all.”

It’s insufficient for what he’s actually feeling. A memory tugs at the back of his mind, and even if it’s far off, he remembers it vividly. 

It invokes the smell of vanilla and flowers, the comfortable heat of the mellow sun on his cheeks, and an inexplicable warmth that blossoms from his chest. 

His gaze sweeps over his current surroundings, littered with the little details she’d prepared these last few days, and he’s aware of the direct contrasts. 

Chocolate instead of vanilla. Paper lantern stars among the potted flowers. The moon instead of the sun beaming down on them. 

However, that warmth is very much the same. 

Thank you for letting me relive it, he thinks, unable to articulate his gratitude aloud.

She loosens herself from his hold just enough to look up at him. Her focus flickers to his lips, and his usually slow heartbeat quickens in response. 

She presses onto her tiptoes to brush her nose against his. “Happy Birthday, Xavier,” she finishes, barely above a whisper.

Allowing his eyelids to flutter shut, he relishes in the splendor of the next few seconds. Her closeness and the brush of her fingers against the nape of his neck leave him chasing his next breath. 

But before Xavier can close the meer centimeters left, the saccharine scent around them turns acrid. 

His eyes snap open to meet MC’s own stunned expression.

“The candle!” she gasps as they both whirl towards the forgotten cake. A pool of wax bubbles at the center and only a small stub of wick remains lit. 

MC shoves him haphazardly back into his seat, tapping his shoulder wildly. “Just hurry and make a wish!”

Xavier’s mind draws a blank as he finds himself facing the cake once more. With all the years he’d lived, he should have a long list of desires, and yet in this very moment, his heart is full. 

Still, he squeezes his eyes shut and blows out sharply. The weak flame vanishes into a thin trail of smoke. 

MC softly claps her hands together before coming around the table. Xavier leans forward to observe the details of the cake now that tears weren’t obscuring his vision. Purple streaks swirl through the white cream, and the delicate gold dust scattered throughout reflects the glittering constellations overhead. 

“Did you make it yourself?” he asks, though the answer is obvious by the half-squished fondant star in the corner. 

MC nods proudly. Her confidence only wanes when her eyes fall on the puddle of half-dried wax cratering the icing in the center. A defeated sigh drifts from her lips. “Xavier, I think baked goods tremble when they see you—and you didn’t even make this one.” 

“Maybe I’m a legendary monster in their world,” he says seriously, pleased by the soft chuckle he elicits from the girl. His attention flicks to her briefly before returning to her diligent fingers extracting the wax. “It’s pretty either way.” 

MC hums in disagreement. “The icing on top made it prettier.”

With a small spoon, she swipes a lump of sugary fluff from one of the corners and pops it in her mouth. “It still tastes good though—so that’s all that matters.”

A remnant of the white icing is smudged against the edge of her mouth, but Xavier says nothing, electing to commit the image to memory instead. 

Still oblivious to her appearance, she collects another scoop from a different side and extends it out to him. “Want to taste it?” 

Xavier’s lips lift in a small smile as his gaze trails from her hand up to her face. Those tendrils of affection are winding inside of his chest again, only tightening their hold at the brilliant luster reflected in her eyes. 

She was looking at him like that again, her entire countenance brightening as she waited expectantly. He was accustomed to being a loner—a shadow passing through the crowd before disappearing into a flash of light. 

But now, she was aware of him. More than that, she was anticipating his reaction, his thoughts, his feelings—and not just because it was his birthday. 

It was…overwhelming. 

Unable to stop himself, Xavier rises to his feet, not quite sure what he wants to do or say. However, when he peers down at her again, his body acts before his mind can catch up. 

Swooping forward, he catches her mouth with his own. 

Immediately, he is bombarded with her intense sweetness. 

She tastes like sugar and stars and lavender—as if all the promises she’d adorned on him that day lingered on her lips, reaffirming her vows even as she melts into him. 

At her returned fervor, his smile unfurls the kiss, a result of his physical inability to contain his bliss any longer. 

“It’s very sweet,” he murmurs into the meager space  between them. His thumb traces the outline of her jaw and brushes away the little bit of icing he hadn’t caught. 

When he meets her gaze again, her countenance is radiating with fondness just as it had at the fountain. 

“Do you want to know what I wished before?” he says, suddenly feeling flustered by her rapt attention. 

Her expression contorts into stern frown. She steps back, though she can’t go far with his hands greedily holding their grip at her waist. “No! If you tell me, it won’t come true.”

Xavier hums thoughtfully, bumping her nose with his own. “Then can I tell you what I didn’t wish for?”

She falters a moment before pursing her lips. It’s obvious her curiosity is winning over her superstition. “I guess that’s alright.” 

A chuckle scrapes past Xavier’s throat, but he schools his giddiness, clasping his hands together over the small of her back. 

“I didn’t wish not to revisit the sea of flowers with you next year,” he says. “And I didnt wish not to watch a real meteor shower with you. And I desperately did not wish not to spend every birthday I have left in time with you.” 

A soft pink dusts her cheeks, growing deeper with every “not wish”. Her hands cup his face and she gives him several tight squishes—as she tends to do often. 

“Don’t tell me you wasted your wish on that,” she says, her voice noticeably strained. “I promised you those things, so I’ll make sure it happens.” 

“A wish on you is never wasted,” Xavier returns, pulling from her hold lest she assault him further. “Besides, those are my true feelings, and really…it’s all I want.” 

MC releases his face to wrap her arms around his neck once more. “That’s all you want?” She raises a brow. “Even more than those ugly pictures of me back?” 

He rolls his eyes. 

“They’re not ugly,” he insists, though he grows solemn at the smirk that pulls at her mouth. “But I do want those back.”

“It would be a shame if they got lost.”

“I won’t let you borrow anything again,” he threatens knowing full well he’d lend her his very life source if she asked. 

Her shoulders shake in a fit of giggles before she rests her head against his chest. Though there’s no music, they begin to sway to a melody only their tied souls seem to hear. 

“Fine. Think of it as your second to last birthday gift,” she murmurs after awhile. 

“I think you’ve showered me with enough today,” he says. “Though…why second to last?”

MC lifts her head as they slow to a stop, her expression more somber and sincere. “I’m cashing in my wish early,” she explains, her fingers fiddling with the lapel of his blazer. “For the meteor shower we’ll see in the future.”

“And what’s that?” Xavier pauses. “I mean…what’s your not-wish?”

Her lips quirk upwards at the joke before she lets out an unsteady breath. Her eyes lift to his, drenching him with her fierce conviction. “I wish you all the happiness in the world, Xavier. And not just in this one. Every world out there…every planet, every universe—I wish you happiness in each one.”

His throat is constricting again, and maybe a few more tears leak from his barely dried eyes, but it’s okay. With all the smiling and laughter throughout the day, a few bouts of crying was justified. 

However, it seemed that MC’s wish would be granted early.

Because as they sit under the stars and eat sugary cake—and even as they pull pieces of wax from their mouths with heady laughter—Xavier feels his chest fill with the warmth of the sun. 

Whether this would be his last birthday or the first of many more celebrations, he would hold fast to this memory with everything inside of him.

Because in this exact moment in time and space, he was blissfully happy.

[katzkinder]

Since Mukuro and Tsuna are still weirdly connected, Tsuna’s sometimes gotten glimpses of things he wasn’t ever supposed to, and vice versa on Mukuro’s end. He usually shoves Tsuna awake once he notices Tsuna’s accidentally plopped into one of his memories, but

If it’s one of Tsuna’s, he’ll let it play out without interruption. It’s never anything of note, anyhow, so expending energy to wake him would be pointless >liar mc liar face

Eventually this gets him more than he bargained for

There’s also a lot of stuff in Tsuna’s mind that, once he’s aware of it, it makes him go okay hold up

Because it’s not like he ever assumed that Tsuna was some happy go lucky idiot, but he also assumed he wasn’t actually thinking about much in that head of his he’s sure is more fluff than brains

Gokudera-kun is going to be disillusioned with me any day now. I’m grateful to him but I feel bad for somehow tricking him like this. I shouldn’t let him get too close but I don’t want to hurt him, either. What should I do? I’m sorry, Gokudera-kun. Please don’t hate me when you figure it out.

Yamamoto is such a nice person; he shouldn’t be stuck around someone like me. He’s like Kyoko-chan like that. Nice to everyone, even useless, no good me. I wouldn’t be surprised if she fell in love with him. Of course the two nicest people in the whole school would date, right? I’m so worried about him… I don’t know how to handle the way he lights up when he sees me. What should I do? Don’t try and hurt yourself again. Don’t get hurt for my sake, either. I’m sorry I’m so weak…

Hibari-san doesn’t treat me differently from anyone else. He’s super scary but he still bothers to treat me like I’m normal. I think if even he began to act like I wasn’t worth his time I would seriously just give up and call it quits. Things have gotten so messed up. I’m relying on a psychopath like that kicking my ass to reassure me I still mean something. If even someone who values strength above all else still has hope for me what choice do I have?

Reborn’s going to give up on me. Reborn’s going to give up on me. Reborn’s going to give up on me. Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go don’t go— It would be just like me to be so useless I beat the world’s greatest, huh?

The only words he ever found in relation to himself, and words that shake him to his core, are very simple ones

Please wait for me

One time, though, he managed to dive deep enough to find the source of Tsuna’s Dying Will, and he keeps going back despite knowing it’s a pointless, silly thing to do.

There are still the broken remnants of a cage around it. If he sits near it like this, he can almost pretend he isn’t in Vindicare. The cage is still red hot. He’ll burn his fingers if he tries to handle them. The flames reach out to him but don’t touch.

It is not a soft, warm home.

It is something which, if he allowed it to, would consume him right down to his marrow.

This is how Sawada Tsunayoshi has always survived

One day he sees that flame guttering, and he feels panic swell in his throat, because what could possibly, after all this time, be dimming that roaring inferno

There’s ice at the base now

Tsuna made a binding vow to destroy Vongola, that rotten, shambling corpse of a man’s ideals puppeteered by someone with a face a lot like his.

He knows better than anyone that when you make that kind of vow, if you don’t fulfill it… There are consequences.

The mafia has practically deified Vongola Primo’s will into its own separate entity.

The ring, rebuilt and no longer fit for any other, past or future, weighs cold on a young boy’s finger, demanding he make good on his promise

Mukuro wants to destroy the mafia. He’ll get his wish. He’ll make sure of it.

Sawada Tsunayoshi… Is too kind for that life, anyhow.

[llamagoddessofficial]

how would the normal boyo's react to mc's death?

no murder, nothing crazy, just old age taking away the love of their lives.

and for bonus points lets say they had been happily married for decades as to add on the memories and the sudden shock of losing someone that had become such a key factor in your life.

I think I've mentioned this before, but it doesn't hurt to bring it up again. Aggre Mc is going to live a lot longer than she expected. Even with absolutely no intervention, thanks to her connection with the guys, her Soul has three major sources of magic nearby that instinctively constantly share their power with hers. It will probably expand her lifetime by a century, minimum. Her big issue isn't going to be dying; it's going to be dealing with the implications of living so much longer than she thought she would.

There's also the topic of a Soul bond. If she Soul bonds with any of the three of them, and doesn't have kids, she's pretty much going to live as a monster does (forever, unless interrupted). In Aggre, they definitely discuss the subject of her possible death eventually- and my personal canon post-Aggre is that after settling into a rhythm and spending a few decades together, when Mc decides she wants to Soul bond, the boys elect Sans to be the one she bonds with. She'd then live with them like that.

But... in a hypothetical scenario, where Mc resists everything and dies... I think this is how it would go. Obviously, angst and death under the cut.

Sans: Honestly, Sans takes her approaching death the best. Which should really worry you about how the other two would react. Does he fall apart? Absolutely, the last time he felt this kind of agony was when he lost his mother. But Sans has always been good at disguising his emotions, hiding tremendous pain under an easygoing exterior. He keeps up with the dishes, organises her end of life care, keeps contact with his friends. Papyrus would be the only one to see even a fraction of the true extent of Sans' grief. Sans is about to lose the love of his life, and has completely frozen over to avoid crumbling.

Red: He definitely takes it better than you'd expect, considering he'd have a mended relationship with his brother. But it still hits. It's cruel that the universe sent him someone who taught him how to let himself feel, then took that person away and delivered the worst pain he's ever felt.

Mc would be proud of him, though. Despite the pain, he avoids falling back into the worst of his old addictions, because he knows its not what she would want and it won't actually make the pain go away. It will just numb him to everything; including those who are trying to help. He picks up smoking again in the days leading up to her death, but he avoids the bottle.

Skull: It's hard, for him. It's really hard.

All of them knew it would be particularly difficult for Skull. They had a long time to discuss it- a long time to talk the subject over. Mc prepared stuff for him, for after she's gone... people to talk to, things of hers to hold when it hurts, exercises for him to hopefully learn to deal with it. For a while, everyone was convinced Skull was ready. Even Skull.

... But he just... he just can't do it. He can't do it. He can't let her go. It doesn't matter how many hours she spent holding his hands, how hard they all believed he'd be fine without her- it doesn't matter how much he healed by her side and how well adjusted he seems now. The moment he realises she's really genuinely dying, the journey ahead of him looks so impossibly dark, so frightening. He holds her as she's dying and he feels so small. He cries like a baby and begs her not to leave him behind.

The moment she dies, he catches her Soul. He holds it in his hands, hushing it like a scared bird and tucking it away into his chest, where he can keep her alive. Honestly, they'd have to cut him open if they wanted to let her pass on.

... But I think at that point, Red and Sans aren't exactly fighting to make him let go. In fact... something unspoken passes between the three of them. Skull just did what all of them wanted to do.

Skull gives her to Sans, who keeps her hidden away, within his own Soul. Her Soul knows his best, and will feel most comfortable there long-term.

They'll figure out something. They have all the time in the world.

[saintsenara]

Wait why are you not a fan of Snape and Hermione?? 2 nerds who care a socially awkward amount about the things they care about nerding out together at levels of romance people who can be chill and normal about things can’t comprehend?? It’s not one of my fav ships but I can definitely see it!

I headcanon that Snape picks on Hermione being a muggle raised know it all thirsty to prove and lacking self awareness because he was one himself when he arrived at school and James and Sirius picked on him for it! It’s like that you’re most repulsed by the things you’re self conscious of in yourself thing to me. Or maybe a him trying to live out being the “cool” one in that dynamic thing

But when she’s a grown woman and more self possessed like he became too I feel like that same energy ness has potential for love!

Hermione is famously respectful and compassionate enough towards all beings to be more understanding than say Lily Evans of his prickly tender ego if he had another m word style outburst and such a people pleaser she’d keep coming back for more snark as long as he peppered it with the odd encouraging compliment

And I feel like a Snape in reciprocated love could absolutely veer into inventing beautiful and helpful spells to impress his lover or sending “made me think of u 😘” notes with verses of elaborate obscure poetry territory that would be frankly the level of literary and academic courtship our Herms deserves 😌

Is it cause they’d both be the highly strung worrier one and they both need someone to ground them? Or maybe too pessimistic together and one of them needs to be the cheerful one?

anon, i genuinely love this for you - i'm always thrilled to get people explaining their love for ships in the ol' inbox, especially when they're ships i don't instinctively vibe with, and i have been won round to stranger premises than this by a passionate defence of why two characters should kiss.

where i still think snamione isn't clicking for me, however, is that the way you describe both snape and hermione here doesn't align in any significant way with what i personally think would be interesting to explore about either character in a relationship and have them still feel meaningfully like their canon selves.

[i will say, though - because i always think it's worth reiterating my fandom commitment towards being neither a cop nor a priest - that i literally don't give a shit about either the age gap or the student-teacher dynamic. i know that's an objection to pairings like snarry and snamione which lots of people do express. but i will never be one of them.]

the primary reason that i don't vibe with many of the more... sapiosexual hermione ships [by which i mean not only snamione but tomione] is that they hang on the idea that hermione's intellect expresses itself in a way we never actually see in canon.

or, the idea that snape and hermione are intellectually compatible [and that they would enjoy hanging out being nerdy about stuff] is just... not true.

throughout the seven-book canon, the way that hermione shows herself to be clever is that she displays an excellent memory and an enormous capacity to rote-learn. her intelligence is overwhelmingly demonstrated - both in the classroom and during the trio's year on the run - by her being able to regurgitate swathes of information, very usually verbatim from the source she got it from.

she is clearly able to use this ability to retain information to understand the theoretical component of magic in a way neither harry nor ron ever manage, and she is able to use this understanding of theory to work out how to perform spells which are ahead of her expected level on the hogwarts curriculum.

and this is intelligence - and i want to be very clear that i'm not trying to suggest that hermione shouldn't be thought of as intellectual, or that her academic achievements should be devalued. but it isn't the way snape's intelligence manifests itself.

because hermione is never shown - at any point in canon - to be a particularly creative or experimental thinker.

she places an enormous intellectual trust in disciplinary authority - teachers and textbooks - and is frequently rattled when these are revealed to be partial or incorrect, as we see in her shock at hogwarts: a history not mentioning house elves or her anger at harry getting better results by following the modified instructions in the prince's textbook [despite knowing nothing about the theory underpinning them] than she does with the "official" ones.

she also regards the gatekeeping of inquiry which disciplinary boundaries enforce to be a positive thing and she never displays any inclination to step beyond them. she dislikes the spells in the prince's textbook because they aren't ministry-approved - and i must say that i think the idea that she'd be won over by a man creating spells for her is wishful thinking...

she is immediately mistrustful of anything she can't find something she regards as an empirical source for - notice, for example, that she only comes round to the idea that prophecies might be real once she encounters them in the ministry of magic.

even when we see her using magic on her own terms - the jinx she uses on marietta edgecombe, for example; or the protean charm on the da coins - the magic she's using is sophisticated, and is being applied in a way which wouldn't be classroom-sanctioned, but it's not magic which is being used in a way which is removed from the spell's original purpose. the protean charm on the da coins is impressive because it's a flawless execution of newt-level magic by a sixteen-year-old. it's not impressive because hermione is using it in a strange, experimental, or radical way.

[in contrast, the dark mark - which harry notes the coins mimic - is clearly a spell voldemort himself invents.]

snape, on the other hand, is an experimenter. he's someone who clearly sees magic as a creative force which he has every right to shape as he sees fit by adaptation and invention. and he's someone who evidently rejects the logic of disciplinary gatekeeping - one tension in his relationship with dumbledore prior to half-blood prince is that snape evidently retains an enormous intellectual interest in the dark arts [which, as he tells us, are an area of magic which is feared precisely because they can't be neatly contained within disciplinary boxes - they are ever-changing, unfixed, mutating...]

and it's these conflicting views of what magic is and how it should be used and thought about which is the cause of the intellectual incompatibility we see between snape and hermione in canon.

he is unequivocally in the wrong for his dismissive classroom manner towards her - because he is an adult and she is a child. but he isn't wrong in principle that hermione just repeating what she's read in the textbook and refusing to synthesise her knowledge [she always goes massively over word limits! she never gives answers in class in her own words!] isn't actually a demonstration that she understands the material. [and therefore something a good teacher would guide her through conquering... snape having no interest in doing this is his own fault.]

and - from a snamione-specific perspective - it's all the evidence snape needs that, actually, they're not going to enjoy hanging out chatting about academic pursuits. hermione values knowledge like a dragon hoards treasure. snape wants to take that treasure, melt it down, and turn it into new and weird things.

once again, i don't think this a flaw in either of their characters - it's just something which is. and i don't think it's an insurmountable obstacle to writing snamione, because i believe any ship is possible if an author has enough nerve. but it's an aspect of both characters' canon personalities [and hermione's above all] which never seems to make it into snamione fics - all of which, as far as i've encountered them, are beholden to an idea of hermione's approach to academia which is considerably more flexible than we actually see in the books.

of your other points, i'm not particularly convinced by the idea that snape sees his younger self in the teenage hermione. this isn't just for the reasons outlined above - hermione isn't trying to prove herself in the same way he was, which was by creating and experimenting in a bid to be noticed and considered impressive - but also because of the massive gulf in their respective class backgrounds.

hermione is really posh - and, while she's obviously subjected to discrimination at hogwarts on account of her blood-status, she also comes from a family with both the financial resources and the cultural language to make her familiar with the vibe of the elite muggle boarding schools hogwarts is a pastiche of.

the teen snape - in contrast - stands out from his cohort in that he is visually identifiable as working-class [which does appear to be genuinely unusual at hogwarts]. his class background is something which clearly drove a lot of the marauders' bullying of him [i'm sorry to the girlies who think james and sirius targeted him out of some righteous desire to stamp out his prejudice - it was because he was poor and uncouth] and which he still has a chip on his shoulder about as an adult.

this - again - is not an insurmountable barrier to a snamione relationship [as it's not a barrier to thousands of real-world partnerships and friendships]. but it is something an author needs to grapple with if they want to make the pairing - at least, in my opinion - seem plausible. but the standard vibe seems to be that snape would be comfortable in the grangers' home fairly quickly, and that he'd be delighted to have hermione swanning around offering suggestions for how they could do up spinner's end... instead of him resenting this as the unwelcome meddling of people who've never had to worry for money.

i'm also not particularly convinced by the idea that hermione would get over being called a mudblood - especially by an adult man. while i think it's completely plausible that she'd handle this differently than lily [although lily's reaction is entirely justified - and i don't think we should throw the baby out with the bathwater of contextualising the teenage snape and the motivating factors behind his decisions by pretending that cutting off your friend because he called you a slur is a petty, ill-thought-out, or unreasonable move], i don't think that her reaction would be automatically forgiving.

hermione is compassionate towards kreacher when he calls her a mudblood because kreacher is a slave, whose prejudicial views are inextricably bound up in the magic used to oppress him [i.e. that if he received an order to use the term, or to refuse to serve a muggleborn food, from his masters, he would have to punish himself violently if he disobeyed it]. she is not - quite rightly! - compassionate towards someone like draco malfoy when he calls her one, since he is a free person with full agency to choose not to do this.

could she forgive him - or snape - for using the term? sure! absolutely! but i don't think it's a given - and i also think she'd expect a demonstration of how sorry snape was which wouldn't necessarily align with how he'd think he'd demonstrated his regret.

i do agree that - as you say - hermione is a people-pleaser, and she definitely has a far greater tolerance for being treated cruelly by people she wants to impress [especially authority figures - including snape himself] than either harry or ron. and i think this has the potential to introduce an extremely thorny dynamic into a snamione fic - in which the power dynamic inherent in the age gap [which, to reiterate, i think is completely fine for an author to enjoy] is compounded by hermione being unwilling to anger or contradict snape [which is a vibe - as i've said in answer to an ask about harmony - we also see in her relationship with harry... it's also obviously exactly how snape's relationship with dumbledore works.]

on a couple of the more minor characterisation notes, i'm afraid that the idea of snape as a great romantic has never hit for me. it seems really bound up in the way alan rickman portrayed him in the films, which i've always found a bit toothless. i also don't like the trope of "actually snape's really hot" which seems to always accompany it - ugly, odd men to get to bone too!

[what he would be - i think - is a magpie. get ready to be handed odd stones and bits of leaves on dates.]

i also think they're highly-strung in ways which differ enough to mean they'd just annoy each other. hermione is highly-strung in that she flusters easily and is very poor under pressure, but she's actually pretty emotionally stable [and i'd dispute that she's a pessimist - this is a girl who thinks that she's successfully eradicating slavery at hogwarts by knitting hats; she's pretty robust, funny, cheerful, and idealistic]. snape is highly-strung in that he has a hair-trigger temper and is very emotionally volatile, but he's obviously an extraordinarily good liar, very quick on his feet, and very good under pressure. he'd think she panicked too much [and over insignificant things he didn't care about], she'd think he tanked the vibe of a date by taking offence at someone breathing too loudly.

where are they similar? well, they have a shared self-serving streak [hermione is appalled by behaviour from harry and ron she considers perfectly moral when she does it]; capacity for cruelty; tendency towards secrecy; tendency towards pettiness and pleasure in the misfortune of others; loathing of flying a broom; cutting sense of humour; stubbornness; resilience; clear dislike of slumming it in nature; love of puzzles; and a weakness for red hair.

i think you could make it work on the grounds that they'd probably have the time of their lives being haters together - especially, i feel, about rita skeeter.

and - y'know - because love is weird.

[notmorbid]

lost in the garden.

dialogue prompts from lost in the garden by adam s. leslie.

i'm not going to grow up.

each of us survived to fight another day.

i never reveal my sources. i'm the picture of discretion.

i don't want to play anymore.

people disappear all the time.

are you sure? i need you to be absolutely sure.

i never really interact with fans.

i miss the anticipation and the adrenaline spikes. the feeling of being alive.

it's dangerous. too dangerous for you.

i'm the zany one. i'll do anything.

shall i compare thee to a summer's day? you're a bit sticky and only tolerable in small doses.

i didn't think you could pick me out of a lineup.

you fucking nailed it.

you know my name?

how would you like the honor of doing me a favor?

it's serious spy shit.

you are my oldest friend, but also my worst friend. but also my best friend.

are you materializing out of thin air now?

well, this is just the icing on the fucking cake, isn't it?

are we gonna do this, or what?

you seem to live your life entirely below the surface.

i sometimes wonder if you might be evil.

you're personable, i'll give you that. 'nice' is a stretch.

i'm not spontaneous. i'm not impulsive.

that's the rule of daring: each dare has to be bigger than the last.

other people's business is the whole reason you exist.

did i dream you?

i think i love you.

if there's one thing i've always admired about you, it's your poker face.

i can't begin to tell you how much i hate you.

i might have to dance with you again.

go easy, nightmare. go easy.

i didn't know it was possible to be so happy.

i feel like you were always there.

you're looking better than i thought you would.

if you could have any flavor of ice cream at all, which would it be?

is this all just hijinks to you?

do you ever fucking stop talking?

i was just a child. i didn't mean it.

i know guys like you. i'm friends with guys like you.

aren't you going to ask me what's wrong?

i'm worried i'll forget what ____ looks like.

you're always so serious. you don't have to be.

it's not as bad as you think it is, whatever's bothering you.

i'm as flawed as anyone else.

we're being followed.

you don't get more normal than me.

i'm here. i came back.

i'm glad we got lost together.

head injuries always bleed a lot. it's not as bad as it seems.

is that ghost riding a bicycle?

you don't have friends. you have contacts.

you make it very hard for me to respect you.

what's your middle name?

what's your earliest memory?

how could i forget something like that?

love means never giving up on someone.

i have a great ass. everybody says so.

you have to stop being young sometime, don't you?

i know a thing or two about depravity.

speak to me. tell me things. tell me anything.

i'm not a serial killer. why would you say i'm a serial killer?

i feel like i'm being sucked empty.

you can't ruin this for me. i won't let you.

people know, if you know the right people to ask.

it's dangerous to pretend for too long.

geography isn't what it used to be.

it's only trespassing if we get caught.

if we were watson and holmes, who would be who?

you have the self control of a toddler undergoing an out-of-body experience.

i'm not supposed to tell my name to strangers.

no one's ever thrown a party for me.

are you really dead if you don't realize you're dead?

get as far away from here as you can. this isn't your thought.

you can't save ___. you'll only get hurt.

you don't know who you're messing with.

i've made a poor job of being an adult, and a poor job at remaining a child.

it's too late to save my soul.

i always liked you best. you understand that, right? you were my favorite.

you really expected me just to give up on you?

we're not getting out of here. no one ever does.

i thought i loved you. i really thought i loved you.

[hyacinthusmemorial]

is it only me, who goes like "Apollo must have flashback to hyacinth dying , when he saw Achilles and dead Patroclus,

Am I the only one who thinks of this? Okay

If that’s your personal head canon, go right ahead. Believe what you want to, nobody will stop you. 👍😉 I think its definitely a sweet sentiment, and a fun little brain worm.

But, I don’t think Apollo would react that way for for quite a few reasons. The first is mythology and the second is psychology and the third is genre.

The mythological reason is that Apollo is directly and purposefully responsible for Patroclus’s death, and he definitely hates Achilles. Like actually. The List of Top Ten People Apollo hates has Achilles twice on it. If he was in a room with Hitler, Stalin, and Achilles, and he had a gun with two bullets in it, he would shoot Achilles twice. He wants Achilles to suffer, and when Patroclus dies he tells Hector that he’s the third guy to kill him, but Apollo was the first to kill him. Because I think everyone in the Trojan war knows Apollo and Achilles hate each other. Apollo because Achilles murdered his sons (plural) and Achilles because he knows Apollo’s going to kill him. Reasons for their bitter rivalry can be found in this post here. There are more probably too.

As far as the psychological aspect, let’s assume Apollo’s psyche is like a human’s (which I do not think it totally is, but that’s another post). Trauma and Grief are two completely separate experiences. Grief is a normal human thing which we are given excellent coping skills to overcome by nature. People die. It’s a fact of life. But, HOW people die can be traumatic. For example, if your in a war and you watch your buddy die from a mine exploding and he doesn’t die right away, that’s traumatic. The grief is still separate from the trauma. Its closely aligned, but its separate. Trauma on the other hand is a situation that humans are not equipped to handle—its a situation outside the psychological norm. So our brain adapts normally to an abnormal situation.

I think the only true similarity between Patrochilles/Hyapollo deaths is that they were gay and one of them died before the other. If anything, Apollo was feeling a little vindictive when Patroclus died. He was the arm of fate that killed Patroclus, and Achilles absolutely deserved the death and destruction of everything he held dear in my POV. He was a serial assaulter and a war criminal.

Another reason why flashbacks just don’t work is because flashbacks are a trauma response. I think there’s a separate issue where one might live in the memories of a loved one’s passing, but that’s separate from a flashbacks. Flashbacks from PTSD are when the subconscious fear overwhelms the conscious. It requires a trigger, which can be anything and sinister—subtle and terrible. We know from the ancient authors that one of Apollo’s trigger is a westerly wind. @gingermintpepper had an excellent post providing several sources about Apollo’s approach to Hyacinthus and Asclepius’s deaths.

A flashback is a fear response in a situation that does not require this response based off of a trigger that puts the sub-conscious into a flight/fight mode and makes someone relive a previous traumatic experience. So for example Apollo might feel a western wind and relive Hyacinthus’s death or fear that Zephyrus is about to hurt him or the person he is with. This also depends on coping skills, and whether the person has developed grounding skills to put them back in the present.

I don’t believe that the situation with Patroclus/Achilles is triggering in the right way to elicit a flashback in Apollo. Patroclus and Achilles deaths are pretty different from Hyacinthus’s. So even if he had a grief response it would be minimal. At least from my perspective, one of my parents died when I was a child, and I had to take care of them while they were sick. I take care of a lot of sick people in my day to day, and I will say I rarely ever experience something that puts me back into the mode I was in when my parent died. I walk past the room my parent died in sometimes, cause I work in the hospital that they died in, and I am alright because I recognize the situation and I’m able to accept they died there. Alternatively, what does illicit a response in me is a certain smell my parent had when they were dying. I recognize it in patients sometimes, and I can have a visceral response to that, but again, I have learned how to appropriately deal with these sorts of things because “improve, adapt, overcome.”

Trauma is absolutely just a part of living in the world. Everyone has their own life story and troubles and triggers and struggles. But I don’t think Apollo/Hyacinthus connects to Patroclus/Achilles in any intense way.

Alternatively, I think perhaps something Apollo might have a more visceral response to is Hermes and Crocus, who are quite nearly the same dang story. That’s Apollo’s brother, and he loses someone the same way Apollo lost someone. That would open up gateways of intense suffering.

As far as genre goes, Apollo and Hyacinthus have a horror story parading as a romance story. Zephyrus is a sinister, invisible monster—he causes violence in a place where violence does not belong. On the other hand, Patroclus/Achilles is a war story—violence is expected. They both absolutely knew they were going to fie in that war, so their agony is expected from the beginning. Hyacinthus’s loss is unexpected and therefore, grievous. Not that losing your lover/cousin in a war is less horrific—it’s just prepared for, while losing your lover in a meadow while playing discus is…not.

I don’t mean that your personal view is wrong in anyway. Apollo is a divine character and anybody can have any view of him they would like. A lot of people view him as the antagonist of the Iliad and Achilles’ story, which to me, he just isn’t. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I love perspectives and opinions. I like sharing mine, so I love it when people share theirs.

[candyunicornsateme]

Please feed me mccormick angst. Give me your headcanonssssssss

Okay so like my main usual ideas are not extremely grim but generally pretty dismal and depressing like.

Kevin to me is like the type to steal some money from Kenny for some random thing and maybe Carol will say "hey don't do that" but nothing comes of it and there's no getting it back. I also see him "borrowing" Kenny's stuff in general like his PSP and Kenny has to hide it from him. He's not really intentionally an asshole but he's kinda a pain in the ass stupid older brother that adds to Kenny's stress occasionally. Yanno what I mean.

Also just see Kevin as the one to move out and disappear as soon as he's old enough to. Probably has the most tension with their dad, because... he's white trash and fights back? I guess? Which is compounded by one of the few scenes of him there is in the show. There's really not much to go off of with him in the show either so there's that too, so I am generalizing to a degree.

Kenny's dad is almost always a major touchy spot and source of issues, not just for Kenny. Like it's kind of a given. Most of the physical fighting happens between his parents especially when alcohol is involved, but I really have a hard time not thinking there'd be a few incidents if shit gets really bad. Like booze and drugs??? Some shit's bound to really blow up.

I normally picture Kenny not having many, if any, physical altercations with his dad, but I think his dad would totally just start bitching at him a lot of times, being jaded and complaining about money and demanding shit ("you have so much time to go hang with your friends you could be making money to pay for all this food you kids fucking eat"). Kenny generally ignores him, but it's anxiety inducing and at worst extremely frustrating. There's a lot more negative memories than good and I always see Kenny having some really fucked up internalized anger because he would leave instead of lashing out. Even grown up he wouldn't confront unless it was to protect someone else from getting hurt.

Like Kenny doesn't hate him but he wishes both his dad and his mom could stop drinking and taking their anger out on each other at the very least.

But maybe sometimes he does hate him. We can have a little hate and violence as a treat.

Carol is just stuck and forced to pick up the slack working long evening shifts and stuff like that, so no one's around to make the kids dinner, and she's usually too tired or checked out drinking, or arguing with Stuart on other days, to do too much. So homecooked meals are very rare, cleaning is sparse, and most times she just looks so tired and defeated just barely getting by. She expresses love and affection more, and the worst she would intentionally do is smack Kenny's arm. Sometimes she gives Kenny some tough love type of scolding, which could be a little something he can relate to with Kyle. Sometimes she sounds so sad though when she says nice things like that Kenny's her "sweet little boy", like she knows he's forced to look after himself and help look after Karen.

Kenny will come home late at night from hanging with friends or anything and his mom will be passed out alone on the couch on her stomach, just the glow of the old TV flickering some late-night infomercial no one's watching and reflecting on empty bottles and crap on the coffee table and Kenny just sighs. (This scene has been on my drawing list for years but at this point fuck it lmao)

Given their parents being like that, Karen grows up very anxious and unsure, and Kenny really is her rock until she gets older. :(

And KenNY... The idea of him fucking taking on the parentified child role and having to keep his shit together because he's gotta look out for Karen. He's gotta do shit like get Karen medicine when she's sick. Goes to the laundromat to clean their clothes because they don't have functioning machines at home (been there, it sucks). And he doesn't say shit about any of it, not the bruises, not the severity of drinking, not the having to escape his house because of the yelling. Until suddenly one day out of the blue he'll laugh and say his dad would've beat his ass if he did xyz and then doesn't explain or mention it again.

Yeah. Like that :)

BUT DON'T GET ME WRONG. I think more wholesome, nice stuff with all them is good too lol. I promise. I don't want anyone to assume this means I think other ideas/interpretations are "wrong". Kevin could be a derpy well-meaning brother too. Yanno.

Like I wish I could look at them and not only think of domestic violence and not wanting to be home, but like I said in my other post, my old edgelord hcs of yesteryear remain most heavily in Kenny's family. I just really love me some Kenny angst like that lol.

[turbulentscrawl]

Identity(V) Headcanons: Frederick Kreiburg

Frederick's headcanons got a little more...medical than some of the others I've done so far. I'm no expert in this stuff, but I do my best to be comprehensible and respectful where certain disorders have to be mentioned. As always, hope you guys like it!

-Ashes of Memory states that Frederick was diagnosed with ‘psychasthenia’ at some point in his childhood, but this isn’t used as a diagnosis in modern medicine. Instead, it’s a term used to describe a collection of symptoms commonly associated with disorders like OCD. It includes anxiety, obsession, compulsions, depersonalization, nervous ticks, and can even affect one’s memory.

-Personally, I also think he has synesthesia. Frederick mentions colors in relation to music a lot (especially gold), and while this could just be something relating to his other condition, I prefer to take it as literal. It’s part of the reason he was enamored after hearing his father play, why he obsessed with music. Frederick grew up in an onslaught of overwhelming chaos, colors bursting and fading wildly across his senses incomprehensible in his day to day, enhancing his anxiety…but when the recital started there was only the song. One symphony of sound and color, appearing before him in a long, unbroken stream. It was peaceful. And he became obsessed with that peace.

-This also explains his “un-Kreiburg-like skills.” His music is not like what the rest of his family composes because he’s writing it to suit both sound and color. He can perfectly identify pitch and can play most songs entirely “by ear” after hearing them only once or twice, but he’s obsessed with the stream of colors keeping a certain rhythm to them, which doesn’t always lend itself to “traditional” Kreiburg music.

-Frederick’s personality is very affected by the above struggles/disorders. He’s a very kind person at his core, as well as very earnest, but he is plagued by fear, anxiety, and extreme self-criticism. He becomes overwhelmed easily. He is entirely aware of all his struggles, his failures, and wrestles every day with the knowledge that he’s a disappointment to his family. Sometimes his situation brings him to tears, sometimes to destructive wrath.

-Frederick has come to accept his need for appearances, that people mostly like him because of his looks and his familial relations. But on his worst days he can’t even rely on that much because his communication begins to break down. His speech becomes disjointed and frantic, he’s tense and twitchy, a look of horror sinks deep into his face. To protect what remains of his reputation, he hides away during these times.

-When he is with people, he behaves as a gentleman should, albeit a reclusive one. He’s terrified of being judged further, but craves understanding and praise, so he maintains personal distance while remaining remarkably enthusiastic about musical discussion. He’s never told anyone but his family about his diagnosis or his synesthesia. They are both sources of shame for him.

-When at his most anxious, he has a tendency to pull at his hair. Whole clumps of his long hair have been lost to the worst of his fits. He’s not particularly sensitive about any resulting bald spots on his scalp, but he does try to cover them with his normal ponytail style because he knows they would affect people’s attraction to him.

-He despises the sound of dogs barking. Which is a shame, because he does like dogs. Their barking is just burry, red fireworks right in the middle of his vision. It always startles him and makes it impossible to do or focus on anything.

-His love language is Gift Giving, and the “gifts” he gives are, predictably, usually songs. It’s his primary skill, of course, so as far as Frederick is concerned, he has nothing else worth offering besides music made in the name of his loved one. He’d be devastated if these musical gifts weren’t appreciated; Frederick can’t take much more rejection. His favorites Love Languages to receive are Word of Affirmation and Acts of Service. He’s secretly a bit desperate for praise, and any actions you take to support his work or help improve his reputation as a musician are better than gold.

-He likes to match his clothes to the primary colors he sees in the songs he’s performing. During his recitals, he changes coats often.

-He’s a picky eater with a powerful sweet tooth. If he could have it his way, he’d subsist mostly on desserts.

[noondefensesquad]

omg you saw it too!! Can you give us a detailed review too pretty please? But if you prefer not to, I totally understand!!

unfortunately my memory sucks and i saw it over a week ago at this point so i'll try my best 😅

i was sitting in row N so closer to the back and there were two people with ipads taking notes on things to change which was cool because im nosy. however, they didn't make a lot of notations and from what i could read, it mostly had to do with lighting so i don't expect much to change when i go see it again in a few weeks.

i love jamie's work and have seen his productions before but was still taken aback by the darkness at the beginning of the play. you can see tom on the screens (i loved the usage of cameras and screens so they could have full use of the theater) as he's backstage and the heavy breathing put me on edge because i was like

then tom sat at the front of the stage and cried and because he is also such a pretty crier and maybe that's my own weird kink i had the biggest smile on my face. however, the girls in front of me were about to cry with him 😂 tell me this didnt do something for you!

but when fran came out, the people around me sat up. she's phenomenal and i want more people to talk about her performance because she's the star of the show. the way she delivers her lines is so funny and they have a great balance of making it feel current while delivering the original iambic penameter.

then as soon as fran and tom came face to face, the audience audibly reacted. not loud enough to be distracting but enough that you know they were into it. i was in love

lots of shakespeare stuff happened, tom took off that sweatshirt and came out in that vest and multiple people gasped. you can see his abs through the shirt 🫠 and when the nurse squeezes his arm and basically says juliet i get it, that line got a huge laugh. my internal monologue was just

this is a married man this is a married man this is a married man

and then intermission came and i talked to the people around me and this was the conversation

fran is so pretty, talented, funny, amazing, we love her

tom's haircut

tom's arms 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

is zendaya the jealous type or would she say yes that's my man (i had to pretend to be very normal about this conversation and said absolutely the jealous type i have no sources 👀)

how do we get to the stagedoor in time to see them (the amount of texts i got about those videos because i am RIGHT THERE with the most in love expression on my face)

the chemistry is unbelievable and we didn't want the show to be over

somehow we made it to the end of the play and i'll be honest, the second half is my least favorite part of the play so it was also my least favorite to watch. i love how silly and romantic the first half can be and the second half is more doom and gloom. i will say, when this exchange happens

"will you speak well of him that killed your cousin?"

"shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?"

my friend and i audibly said "oop" and that got laughs in our section. the best thing about this play was their delivery and when i read r&j, i couldve never imagined how much fun it could be coming from jamie.

anyway, at the end, we rushed out to the stage door and it was insane to see how the street cleared when tom left. and security was the best. really such sweet guys and if you see them being mean to people, they spend the whole time giving instruction is the friendliest way so those people deserved it.

the we got to speak with fran who is the sweetest and signed my customized r&j book with her face on the cover and my programme

can't wait to go see it again in a few weeks. i wish i could have every second imprinted on my brain