#and it fucking sucks how frequently I feel distant from other people when they start talking about media together

[weaselishmcdiesel]

Itty bitty vent

[bi-mirandalawson]

some of them are better off than others. readmore bc it got long.

robin is mostly okay. tequila wolf sucked but she spent the rest of her 2 years with other people ! multiple other people that she can interact with in normal ways. she made friends ! like she def did miss her nakama, but she didn't have to deal with it herself. for days tho, she's sprouting extra hands to touch shoulders or hold hands with everyone, no matter where on the sunny they are.

franky is probably the worst off. he spends his 2 years doing mecha surgery on himself in a frozen cave. we only ever see him interact with 2 ppl and that probably wasnt very frequent. and franky is so used to being surrounded by people. the strawhats, and before that, his family. and i think he's a very casually affectionate guy. can't walk past someone without putting his hand on their back or shoulder. is not ashamed to cry when usopp and luffy and chopper start climbing on him.

nami and chopper are probably the next most Okay. they both have people around them to interact with, in ways that are positive and mentally stimulating. but it doesnt do anything for being touch starved. it just keeps them from going loopy from loneliness. they both get hugs from everyone. chopper practically flings himself into their arms.

zoro and usopp aren't Bad but aren't really Okay either. usopp i think is like franky. very used to having many people to interact with. loves to have the noise of People around him, even when he is by himself. and i dont think heracles is really good company tbh. but learning and training fill up most of his time, so he does okay. he's still so glad to have people around that he doesn't want to be alone for a while. zoro has people to socialize with but theyre fucking weirdos. perona is kind of a lifesaver bc if he was just with mihawk he probably would come back without any feelings at all. super mega denies being touch starved but the first hug makes him melt.

brook is. very okay in some ways (gets to do what he loves ! he has fans !) and very Not okay in others (doesn't really have a choice in the matter ! doesn't have any genuine friends ! lost his crew AGAIN ! and just has to hope and trust that theyre all okay !) Being busy is probably the best thing for him bc if he were left alone with his thoughts. he would be much worse off.

sanji is. complicated. i kind of hate a lot of the canon for his 2 years. but i think no matter how it plays out, he keeps himself relatively distant from most people. the gender crisis keeps him from connecting genuinely (he could have made friends ! if he wasn't the way that he is.) i do think he ends up with a positive relationship with ivankov, bc iva has a way of bulldozing past anyone's walls/coping mechanisms/deflections. pretends very hard that he isn't touch starved, but his arms ache to pull his nakama close when he sees them. he cries a little bit when someone finally gives him a good tight hug.

luffy is okay. just okay. could be worse ! rayleigh is cool. good mentor, good company. and luffy knows he will come out the other side better for it. he doesn't consider himself Lonely, but he does miss his nakama. and like. luffy is SSOOOO physically affectionate. he is hugs, and leaning on everyone's shoulders, and draping himself over their backs or laps. realistically, do you think rayleigh hugged him ? do you think luffy went thru the whole two years without anyone touching him kindly ?

anyway my point is. there should have been more hugs in their reunion. or afterwards.

thinking muchly about the 2 years the strawhats were apart. thinking big muchly about the reunion. and how touch starved some of them would be.

[fruggo]

Hello ! I saw the enemies fo lovers things and I wanna request if possible

“ rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago. “

With frank if you would and thank you

yessirrr i love frank sm it’s not ok. also umm i may have accidentally written friends to enemies to lovers or something idk. and though i wouldnt necessarily call you friends at the start, you werent really enemies yet???? idk🐸just ummm yeh i love frank

also help how do i not go overboard???? i feel like i made this way too long, please help and i am sorry

warnings: canon-typical violence, swearing, frank being a bastard but then you’re like awwww he’s a cute bastard aaaaw

~~

Things were weird with Frank, and they always had been from the moment you stepped foot in the Entity’s realm. He always tunneled you relentlessly, and that made you think of him as a big asshole, but there were some strange details tacked onto the sentiment that greatly confused you, should you think about it for more than three seconds.

Sometimes, it seemed like he went easy on you in chases, like he put in no effort. He would chase you for a while, let you waste his time, and then leave without even getting a hit on you when he definitely had the ability to.

And you hated saying this, but when he handled you, it almost felt…gentle. Granted, he was a killer, and his job was to murder you, but your experiences with him did not quite line up with those of the other survivors.

They always described trials against Frank as “stepping on legos in the middle of the night” or something akin to that. You never felt like that, though—when he chased you, it felt fair. Almost as if he played nice with you. And more often than not, the killer would let you go when he caught you. The reason remained a mystery to you until quite a bit later.

This trial, Frank was in 100% bastard mode. You had begun to think of his trials as quite easy due to his seemingly calm nature around you, so you were rather caught off guard when he downed you in the first 30 seconds of the match and tossed you onto a hook, no gentleness whatsoever.

You wanted to yell at him and ask what the fuck was wrong with him until you realized this was his fucking job, and this is how he should have been treating you all along. Maybe you had just been imagining it all, but you could have sworn he used to leave you alone more than this. Something just felt different.

After you were unhooked, he went for you again. And again. And then you were dead, completely wiped out of the trial. Frank had demolished you with no remorse.

You knew it was silly to feel betrayed, but you really couldn’t help it. In such an insane and hellish place, anything that could be even remotely perceived as kindness seemed like so much more of a big deal than it truly was. So Frank’s supposed “gentleness” with you had felt somewhat like a friend doing you a selfless favor. Of course, it was not a selfless favor, and it was certainly nowhere near kindness, because he was still a killer chasing you with a knife, but your standards had really lowered in this place.

After that trial, you were back to hating Frank for tunneling and bullying you (like you probably should). You began to understand the survivors’ saying about the legos—and you hoped that Frank would step on some legos too, because he fucking sucked sometimes.

And for a while, that’s just how it was. You nearly forgot how he used to go easier on you, and how you used to do okay in his matches. Now every time you were pit against each other it just felt like you were being stuck with a bunch of pins; you never had any time to breathe or rest or do literally anything. He just went after you until you were gone, and there was next to nothing you could do about it.

Everything changed very suddenly during a trial at Ormond.

You were expecting the same old routine with this asshole—chase, blah blah blah, die. You hardly had energy to fight back anymore.

So when he arrived out of breath at the killer shack, somehow knowing you would be here, Frank was surprised to find you relaxing under the window with your arms loosely crossed, a disapproving scowl upon your countenance. It was enough to make him hesitate in his tracks.

You let out a deep breath, refusing to break eye contact with his mask; you kept up that menacing frown for as long as you could, trying to make him feel guilty (who knows if it was even possible for him to feel guilty? But it was worth a try).

“Just kill me,” you said, voice steady and seemingly unbothered. Underneath the surface, you were trembling, but you stood your ground. “That’s what you’re gonna do, isn’t it? You’re going to chase me until I’m miserable and kill me off as soon as you can?”

Frank went still, not even fidgeting with his knife like he usually did; he was intrigued by your sudden confidence.

You went on. “I’m really sick and tired of you, you know that? I’m sick of you and your bullshit. Why can’t you treat me like everybody else? At first, you went easy on me. Now you just torture me with your stupid mind games, and frankly, I’m sick of playing! I’m done with you—I don’t care anymore! Just kill me, and I’ll get out of your way, okay asshole? Mori me if you want. I don’t give a shit.”

You put your hands up exasperatedly, fully expecting him to take the offer and just send you back to the campfire right then and there. But the man sighed, pocketed his knife, and sat down right next to you as if this were a normal thing for him to do.

You scooted a few inches away out of instinct. Frank noticed, but he chose not to say a word about it.

It was a long time before he said anything, and when he finally did, you wanted to punch him so bad.

“It’s complicated,” he mumbled. And that was all.

Oh, yeah? It was complicated? You scoffed, hanging your head with a bitter smile. “Oh, okay. Sure.”

Silence again.

Awkward, suffocating silence.

And then Frank got up and left. You were unbothered for the remainder of the trial, not even a scratch or bruise on your body.

~~

Sometimes you simply did things, and you didn’t know why. This thing that you just did was irrational, stupid, unplanned, unwise, and everything in-between, and you knew it was, but frequently you just had no impulse control. Perhaps it was the Entity’s influence, or maybe you had always been this way—you couldn’t really remember.

How did you get here again? Why were you laying on the ground? And why did your leg hurt so fucking much?

Oh, yes. Yes, yes, you remember now.

Funnily enough, it seems as though the Entity, along with certain killers, did not like it when survivors tried to enter their side of the forest! But you did it anyways, and it appeared that you had suffered the consequences. It’s not like you had put much thought into it; where was the point in that when nothing mattered anymore and you were stuck in an endless cycle of death?

You remembered entering the killer’s woods, looking around, and doing…something. What was that something? You couldn’t be sure, but then you remembered somebody coming up to you and probably definitely hurting you. Yep, your leg definitely was in a lot of pain. You couldn’t even look at it. Did you pass out for a while? Maybe. How long were you out for?

You lay still there for a while, thinking. Man, it really hurt, and boy, were you miserable. Maybe more miserable than you’d ever felt here. The Entity normally healed wounds immediately, but perhaps you had just angered it so much you deserved to suffer.

Oh, dear! You seemed to be passing out at this time. Yes, that was almost certainly what was happening. Black spots danced across your eyes as your body began to feel distant and numb, but you didn’t feel very worried about it. In fact, you felt like making jokes right now, but you had nobody to make jokes to and you probably couldn’t even speak.

Just as you began to accept it, there was a strange thumping sensation vibrating through the ground growing closer…and closer…

Footsteps! That’s good!

Oh. Not if it’s a killer. That’s not good, probably.

But you had no way of protesting when you felt yourself being picked up, because those black spots in your eyes were dancing a lot faster now, perhaps something akin to an Irish jig, and you also couldn’t feel your limbs.

Then you were fast asleep again, dreaming of Irish dancers who were actually big fluffy cloud people wearing leprechaun clothes. Nobody but you would ever know this, and it was going to stay that way.

On the bright side, it made it a lot easier for your rescuer to carry you to safety like this.

~~

When you awoke once more, you were horrified to find yourself in the Ormond lodge of all places. You knew immediately what had happened and were determined to escape as soon as possible.

Your injured leg proved to be a huge problem, however, and you collapsed the second you attempted to find freedom. Trying again, you collapsed once more, and probably maimed yourself further in the process.

Hearing the commotion from the second floor, your least favorite member of The Legion descended down from the main stairs, refusing to look directly at you even as he scooped you up and plunked you (gently) back onto the couch, which was rather comfortable (not that you would ever tell him that).

So he was playing it cool, huh?

Okay. You could play it cool, too. You were cool. Smooth as butter.

No. You really couldn’t be cool in a situation like this, and plus, your mind was still a little woohoo since whatever accident had occurred. Suddenly you blurted out, “Frank, I hate your guts.”

And he had the audacity to laugh. He laughed at you! He did the man chuckle thing, as if what you were saying was funny. No! You were completely serious! You did hate his guts!

Perhaps your face showed how upset you were, because he started to apologize (still laughing).

“Maybe you should go back to sleep,” Frank said after calming down a bit.

No. You couldn’t go back to sleep. You did not want to experience dancing cloud people dressed as leprechauns ever again in your life, for the rest of eternity. Never again.

So you shook your head violently, refusing to give an explanation, which just provoked Frank to anger all of a sudden. If you went back to sleep, he could have some alone time while the rest of The Legion was gone. He kept pushing, and you kept resisting, and he pushed and you resisted, until finally he gave up and let you off with a warning. If you made him mad again, he was throwing you out in the snow.

Fine with me, you said. Okay, I’ll do it right now, he said. No balls, you said.

So then Frank casually went to scoop you up in his arms again, and you started to freak out and beat your hands against his chest until he put you back down. He was was awfully mindful of your hurt leg for someone who was about to throw you into the snow.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—please don’t throw me out,” you fussed. You thought he wouldn’t actually do it. You didn’t know it, but you were right—he was just messing with you because it was funny seeing you scared.

After a bit more griping back and forth, Frank began to grow concerned about your leg. He didn’t know how to bring up the topic because things were so odd between the two of you; this was your first interaction since the brief encounter in the shack. But he swallowed his pride, because the wound seemed to be getting worse by the minute.

“Hey, do you want me to, uhh…get some supplies?” Frank asked awkwardly. When you didn’t understand, he continued, “Your leg? It looks like it hurts…I could fix it if you want.”

You barked out a laugh at his words, unbelieving of this shift in attitude. “Rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago,” you snickered, genuinely finding it amusing.

Frank took offense. He was trying to be nice for once, and you thought it was funny. And his situation really was complex, whether you chose to believe it or not. Maybe he should just tell you to get it off of his chest.

“Listen,” he said, voice laced with seriousness. “When I told you things were complicated, I meant it.”

Sensing the mood change from his tone and body language, you stopped smiling and decided to pay attention to him. Just this once. Never again. After this you could go back to hating him.

Frank continued. “The Entity was going to start…well, hurting me, if I didn’t start doing better in trials. I really didn’t want to sacrifice you, which is embarrassing to admit, but I’ll say it. And I don’t think it liked that.”

You were surprised. And also relieved that you had been right all along—he had been going easy on you at first.

“Why me, though?” you asked, confused. “Why wouldn’t you want to sacrifice me? What about the other survivors?”

If the slight tilt of his head at your question didn’t answer it for you, the way he started tapping his feet and cracking his knuckles so nervously did.

Boy, if looks could kill, you would have died instantly at the scowl Frank sent your way; you grinned pridefully at the realization that this man was down bad. You couldn’t see the expression behind his mask, though, which Frank was thankful for.

He hated every second of this, but you loved it. You reveled in his embarrassment.

Leaning forward on your hands, you begged, “Tell me more! I want to hear all about your feelings for me.”

“I could stab you right now, you know that?”

“But you won’t. You liiiiike me!”

“What are you, eight years old?”

“No, but I am severely injured and have lost a lot of blood so I am not necessarily in the right headspace at the moment.”

“You make a fair point.”

“So tell me! What’s your favorite thing about me?”

“Your ass.”

“No, really.”

“Okay, your ass and your hair.”

“You know what, Frank, I still hate your guts.”

“No, you don’t.”

You paused for a moment. It was probably the blood loss talking, you decided later, but you said, “No. Maybe I don’t.”

[pixie-cocaine]

ATEEZ Reaction To: Having a wet dream about you

yourusernames: Omg can I request ATEEZ reaction to having a wet dream about their friend? (Who would start developing a crush, who would want to have a one night stand and who wouldn't care at all?) Thanks!!

A/N: These reactions are based solely off of what I think they’d do, I am in no way, shape or form, telling you that this IS how the members would handle this scenario. Like shit, I dunno the guys :/. This is a gender neutral reader reaction btw :)

(This is very explicit, you have been warned!!!)

Hongjoong ♡:

• It felt like the actual thing

• Your lips; sweet like pink lemonade and eyes staring into his with a soft sparkle that originated from his bedside lamp

• but what felt more real than anything was you

• Your scent, your taste

• Your touch...

• It was all overwhelming in the sense that he found himself breaking out of his dreaming state, breath heavy as if he’d been sprinting for hours, and a lusty sheen screening his mind from acting with any sense of rationality

• He was horny horny, dawg 💀

• I feel for that man, it’s tough...

• He could already tell that he had an...accident, before he pushed the duvet off his body due to registering the last couple twitches of his restricted cock in his shorts

• No wonder he could ‘feel’ everything so well

• He wasn’t able to sleep the rest of the night.

• Couldn’t help but begin to feel a crush blossom for you

• As y’all already know, the man gets attached to the ones he spends the most time with

• You’re no exception

• Would end up telling you about his feelings. It was eating him up inside to keep it to himself

Seonghwa ♡:

• He has no right looking this good, dawg. It literally makes me so mad lmao

• Lemme lick your face, I bet it tastes like expensive concealer and everything I’ll never have >:}

• Anywhore

• He felt feverish, even inside his dream

• It was odd; he could feel you, but he couldn’t feel you. He remembers the surreal sensation of warmth under his palms as he grabbed onto your bare ass whilst you bounced you on top of him, panting hard and clutching at his damp hair to pull his head back

• He groaned, and just as he went to switch positions, he was snapped out of his dream

• Was like “Fuckin pardon?” when he realised where he was; his empty bed, alone in his own room, no sign of you

• Frowned, pushing the covers off of him because dawg, he was heating up OwO

• Then realised the large wet spot at the front of his sweatpants

• “What the...”

• Was never the same™ 

• Everytime he saw you, he couldn’t help but feel that same heat in his hands, and he felt guilty about it. 

• Didn’t know how to approach you about it at all. What was he supposed to say?

• “I nutted in my pants because I dreamt about doing the dirty with you”

• Just wouldn’t bring it up

• Good chance he’d catch feelings. Seonghwa builds bonds with the people he knows, it’s very easy to tell that when he cares, and he would care dearly for you. Once the chance that anything intimate between you two arises, I’m sure he’d begin to think of you romantically once you’re shown in said light.

Yunho ♡:

• Now wouldn’t a flustered Yunho be a sight? Damn...

• He loved looking down at you

• The way you smiled at him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling his bare chest into yours as you whispered how good he felt inside you, cooing out words of praise and encouragment 

• It was hazy, but he can still vaguely remember how you kissed him so sweetly. How your fingers smoothed his bangs away from his eyes, and how you moaned into his ear softly with each thrust

• It was only when you cupped his cheeks and spoke, did you break him out of his dream;

• “Wake up.”

• His eyes shot open

• Only a blue ceiling stared back

• “Mmm...?” Yunho sits up and rubs his eyes roughly, already aware of the blush that paints his cheeks and nose because he can feel the heat in his face

• Said ‘What the fawk 😃��� when his brain caught up with what he just experienced, as well as the stickiness that clung to his inner thighs when he moved to go get some water

• This bitch was contemplating his whole life after that

• Is ‘UwU’ with you from then on cuz a babie caught butterfwies ;(

• Rlly bad at hiding his feelings lol, you’d catch on eventually

Yeosang ♡:

• It was messy, to say the least

• Kitchen island sex? Yup :D

• The dream wasn’t at all put into play with any sense. You guys were just... in the kitchen, when you confessed your feelings and made a move on him

• A deep kiss mixed with the pounding of nervous hearts all put Yeosang in a fever outside of his dream

• “Say you like it,” You panted, using the hand on the back of his head to push his forehead against yours while the other kept you from laying onto the island

• “I like it.. Fuck, I like it”

• “Yeah?” His hips stutter when you clench your walls around him, and in turn, he lets out a choked-off gasp

• “Y一Oh my god一Yeah...”

• Damn... he was FEELING it lmao

• Funny thing is that he slept throughout the entire dream and woke up only when his foot did a little mid-sleep spasm

• Stared at the wall while frowning for soooooo fucking long

• Whole time he said ‘ya know wot, that’s real interesting 🤔’

• Then was like “Prolly just horny 😃. oh well, time to change my underwear”

• And that’s what he chalked it up to in the end. Would maybe make a joke about it to you next time y’all hung out if he’s feeling loose enough and doesn’t mull over it for too long

San ♡:

• HEATHEN

• Hold on, lemme get a half-assed feel for the man... yes... mm-hm... ah, I see... OK!

• So, from what I can tell, San would distance himself from you slightly. Maybe. 

• That night, as he lie in his bed, breath coming faster with each motion that went on in his head, he saw you in a way that he never thought would happen.

• Skin, slick with sweat and eyes like burning coals as they focused on him. There wasn’t much to remember before it was already fading, but he could still make out how much his stomach lept and spun, heart oh-so thunderous in his chest. Whatever you did with him in the dream... it sparked something inside him.

• San was in a daze as he woke up, his body not quite cooperating with him when he tried to sit up, and instead, falling limp with the next couple of attempts.

• WHEN I TELL YOU THE SOUL WAS SUCKED FROM THIS MAN AISDIUBFADEBI-

• Really just stared into space with the look of a dead man

• What did he do when he finally saw you again?

•  ✨ pretend he didn’t see shit ✨

• Not the masked uncomfort-

• Depending on whether you’re one for confrontation, he might just cave if you press him about his weird behavior enough, but be fast, because I’m sure he could push his feelings down succesfully if he tried hard enough.

Mingi ♡:

• Dude... the fucking happiness of the dream...

• Silly giggles when you’d accidentally bonk eachother while switching posititons, bright smiles when you stared at eachother after a long time, random compliments, and nothing too serious that you couldn’t find playfulness in. Even when you’d both stop smiling to let out small moans and feel the moment together, it was always lighthearted.

• FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK IM SO ANGRY-

• It was some shit you’d see at the sundance ;(

• Then he woke up-

• You were the first and only thing he thought about as he gained conciousness. He wanted you... you, you, you, just you.

• He’d never wanted anything so bad. A sudden longing that made a lump form in his throat and an overwhelming feeling of how much he’s always wanted you.

• So, like Mingi does, he strived for that goal >:D

• He made an effort to see you as many times as he could and whenever you were free to hang out. And finally, one night when you both lie in his bed and gazed thoughtlessly at the ceiling, he told you.

• “I had a dream about you, you know.”

Not me basically making a summary of a could-be fic-

Wooyoung ♡:

• Now believe it or not, this bitch is hard for me to get a grasp on. All I can say with confidence is that he has the sex appeal of a milf stripper and is kinda stubborn-

• Hmm.... bothered.

• That is the feeling it would pull from him.

• Hungry; frequent patterns of warm breath against sweat-slicked skin, mumbled curses past wet lips, nails dug into his stomach deep enough to draw blood yet barely acknowledged through animalistic films over both your eyes, and teeth furrowed into the flesh of his shoulder as you scratched at the blank canvas of his back.

• It was all raw sexual aggression from both sides. So much so, that you both practically fought during it.

“I hate you. I hate you like you don’t even know, Wooyoung,” You speak, breathless, and reach up to weave both fists into his hair, “I love you so much that I fucking... hate you.”

• Then...

• Gone.

• Just like that, the dream was replaced with the sight of familiar bedroom walls as Wooyoung opened his eyes, a sigh escaping past his lips when he finally pieced things together.

• “As if I wasn’t already stressed enough...,” He murmurs, staring down at the new stain on his sweatpants.

• From that point on, it’s a new habit for Wooyoung to catch sight of you and keep his gaze there; just staring when you’re not looking, and feeling terrible afterwards. He feels like he violated you somehow, and with that ball of dread in his stomach whenever he sees you, he becomes distant.

• It’s not catching feelings so much as it is a new desire.

Jongho ♡:

• Jongho, Jongho, Jongho... whatever will we do with you?

• Upfront about it, surprisingly.

• He caught feelings. How could he not when you’re one of the most breath-taking people he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing?

• That face of yours, along with your voice so soft and encouraging in his ears, was enough for him to cave.

• “Just like that, baby... Just like that.”

• He doesn’t even remember the details of the dream. Just your words and kisses, which still make the touched skin of his body heat with excitement whilst he blinks down at his hands.

• He clenches them; one, twice, then lets them fall back to his sides. He doesn’t need to look into his pants to know that he’s soiled himself.

• He feels kinda... empty? After the dream. Lmao just as exhausted as San was, really, but both at the fluttering his heart when he thinks of you, and the dream itself, so cleans himself up real quick before going back to sleep. 

• The fluttering doesn’t go away the next morning.

• So... he tells you :D

• As soon as you walk through the door, holding a bag of snacks and drinks for preparation to crash at Jongho’s apartment for a little bit, he sits you down on the couch, much to your confusion at the serious face he has.

• “I know that this kind of thing can ruin friendships and I don’t want that. At all. But, I had a... dream, about you last night and now I can’t really stop thinking about you...”

• Not the pounding of his heart making him dizzy :*

[lueurnotes]

Kissing Din

based on this ask

Din Djarin/Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: blood mention, canon-typical violence, sexual situations, nudity

a/n: been a minute since I posted!! hope everyone is doing well <3

In Hyperspace.

You were sleepily rocking Grogu against your chest in the co-pilot seat. The little one was already fast asleep, a small snore coming from the bundle of cloth. The cabin was dimmed, with the small blinking control lights glittering through your sleepy haze. Hyperspace washed over you in blue-white streaks of light that kept you from falling asleep. Despite the rest that pulled at you, there wasn’t anywhere else in the Maker-forsaken galaxy that you’d rather be. Safe next to your partner with his son fast asleep on your lap. 

It’s been an incredible journey together. Only a few short months yet so much has happened. Fixing up the Crest when you were all stranded on an icy, krykna-infested planet. Patching up Din whenever he returned, staggering into the hull. Giggling with the kid in your lap as he pushed your tools around. The memories you shared with this clan were few but your heart ached like it was forever. 

A rustling sound coming from the pilot’s chair got your attention. Hm?

“Close your eyes,” Din hushed. 

You obliged, more than happy to shut your sleepy eyes. Frequent hyperspace travel never did get easier for you.

The sound of his helmet hitting the metal floor of the cockpit nearly caused them to snap back open. 

“Din what are you—” 

A bare hand traced your face and you tried to fight the shudder that wracked your body. The warmest hands cradled your face upwards, a thumb brushing across your parted lips. The mere thought that Din was bare-faced inches from you... Your mind kicked into hyperdrive.

“Please,” the hushed whisper fell from his mouth, stilted breath ghosting right over your panting lips. The voice you seldom heard unmodulated was steeped with longing. One word spilled into a sentence.

“I want to kiss you.”

Your face broke into the sweetest grin he had ever seen. Really seen. 

“Like you even have to ask,” you shifted your body upwards, heart racing as your lips finally met. 

On Tatooine.

The blaring wind outside rocked the Razor Crest in it’s docked spot. Some dusty backwater place you could absolutely care less about. You spat out some lingering dust into the sink. 

The little one was dropped off at Peli’s, which meant whoever this bounty was they were high-risk for Din. 

Not a lot of people made that list.

Also meant that maybe you shouldn’t be blasting music throughout the ship, but kriff you were bored. It’s been a couple days at this point and you were told to “lay low”. Din didn’t say anything about music though. Plus, the Razor Crest was a well-fortified gal. Sure, a couple of bits flew off here and there and the hyperdrive could use some work, but whatever was in the armory could ward off any sane being in the galaxy.

 The muffled sound of your playlist could be heard through the refresher door, jumping to full clarity as you exited. You broke into a grin, hips swaying as you sang the words loud. I wonder if Tin Can ever sings? You burst out laughing at the thought of the sound of scratchy-modulated humming. The man hardly talks as it is. I’d bet the Maker that he has a worse voice than me. 

“Something funny?” 

Crap.

You yelped, in a certainly dignified manner, you hope, “Mando! Glad to see you back home.”

Home?! Oh my stars, I’m done for.

The slightest tilt of his helmet let you know that he definitely heard you. He continued, “If you’re done using the comms, can you let Karga know we’re on our way?”

“Or we could just, you know, not do that,” a voice strained.

You finally focused on the bounty that Mando dragged back, a young twi’lek man with deep, blue skin. He wore a similarly draped sand-colored cloth you saw the locals wore. Arm wrappings covered to his wrist where there was no dirt under his fingernails. Your eyes wandered to his shoes, a type of thicker sandal with cording to attach… Yep, definitely not from here. 

You smiled back at Mando, “Gotcha, Captain!”

“Wait!” The twi’lek croaked out, “Please, you can’t let him take me!” 

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, chancing a look at Mando’s visor as if to say can you believe this dude?

“Fine, I’ll bite.” You leaned on one hip, “Why should my partner and I not take in a bounty that we have been searching for I don’t know … ” you counted your fingers, “six days? Explain.” 

And here come the waterworks. 

He wailed, still on his knees next to Mando as he groveled, “It’s a false bounty! I was framed and I didn’t know what to do but run,” he looked at the carbonite cases, eyes growing larger when he saw their blank gazes frozen wide, “I swear to the Maker you’ve got it wrong!”

You bent down to his level, hushing him as you gently rested your hand on his cheek, “Are you implying that my partner is wrong? That he is being dishonest with me?”

Your wide eyes fell on Mando who stood unmoving. You turned back to the bounty before you could notice his hand clenching into a fist as you touched the other man. 

The twi’lek silently nodded, tears slipping over his hairless face.

“Well you’ll be sure to know that I loathe liars,” you nodded solemnly, “Especially if it’s to my face.”

He opened his mouth to say something, sharply gasping as a blue ring of light exited your blaster. He slumped over, mouth still gaping open.

You looked back up at Din, catching him as he adjusted his pants. Smirking, you stepped over the bounty until you were standing right in front of Din, feeling the heat of his body past the beskar. Extending your arms up, you rested your hands on his pauldrons, hand tracing the Mudhorn signet. Gingerly, you placed your palms up just under Din’s ice-cold helmet, eyes questioning. He gave a simple nod, bringing his gloved hands to wrap around yours. 

“I missed you,” you tilted the beskar upwards just the slightest amount, exposing a sliver of skin that was roughened with stubble. You tiptoed upwards and placed a short peck on him.

“It’s good to be home,” he gruffed out.

Keldabe

The overpowering scent of blood filled your mouth and nostrils. Tears tracked down your face as you let out a groan, spitting to the left of the man you just knocked out. You rolled over to lie back on the gritty pavement of the alleyway, uncaring of the unconscious man next to you. Somewhere down the dim alley, you could hear the distinct clang of metal against metal as Din fought the other bounty. The sound of a single blaster shot followed by a muffled yelp was the end of that. 

Never bring a vibroblade to a blaster fight. 

Your head pounded as you fought the urge to laugh out loud. You were lying next to a man that was set on killing you. You were pretty sure Din just shot the other one in the leg. And on top of that you were probably one wrong head turn from unconsciousness. 

Din’s shadow suddenly looming over you snapped the cord and you burst in giggles. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, immediately bending down to run his hands over any area that got impacted.

“You should have seen the other guy,” you winced as he grazed over your ribs. 

“Looking at him right now,” he deadpanned, “Good work. But I’d prefer if my partner would ask for help if they need it.”

He pulled you up, half resting in his lap as your legs splayed out in front of you. Instantly, you curled towards the cold beskar, seeking the warmth past it. 

“Hey Mando?”

“Yes?” He said lowly. 

“M’head hurts,” you slurred, “Kiss me better.”

You couldn’t see it, but he smiled under his helmet. Even with the absolute shit knocked out of you, you still wanted his attention. Kriffing adorable. 

He obliged, head tilting down so he could rest his helmet against your forehead. His eyes closed underneath, savoring the moment. 

“Ah,” you sighed, “Much better.”

“Are you using me as an ice pack?” 

“Maybe,” you whispered. 

He let out a breathy chuckle before drawing away, “Come on, let’s get back to the ship so we can take a nap.”

A kiss on the thigh

Several months ago when you first started co-piloting for Din, you never would have thought that the Razor Crest could be anything but damn near freezing.

This heat was something else. Panting breaths exhaling hot air. The blazing touch that seared across your thighs as Din hovered over you. Even your skin was starting to dampen in the cramped cot. 

“Cyar’ika,” he groaned, “Look at you.”

You opened your eyes, glancing down at yourself pressed so deliciously against Din. He was right there. Biting your lip, you tried to grind against him, only for Din to pinch at your thighs in warning. He continued his teasing, rubbing tenderly at your heated skin. 

Your back arched under his ministrations. Din was taking his time during the reprieve of a lengthy hyperspace pass, massaging enticingly at your thighs, touching everywhere but where you needed him most. 

Twelve hours. 

You moaned, “Kriff, stop teasing, Din.” You writhed under his hold, your thighs pinned down by just his hands. How does he feel so good without doing anything?

“No, I don’t think I’m going to stop.”

You gasped as he replaced his hands with his mouth, bending down to suck harshly at the inside of your thigh. Din licked at the sensitive spot, satisfied as he looked up at your panting face. 

“You look fucking pretty like this.”

A kiss on the hand 

"Glove,” you commanded, “now.”

Din put a hand on his hip. “You don’t need good luck right now,” He jutted his head toward the distant tree trunk that was today’s target, “Just hit it.”

You rolled your eyes, making sure he saw. Like, really saw. You swore up and down that he lacked actual peripheral vision because it was always you that caught the little one getting into places he absolutely should not be. The armory being one of them. You shuddered, finger flicking the safety on as you remembered that very eventful day.

“Focus,” he intoned, “You’re in your head.”

You cursed to yourself, flicking the safety back off. Raising your arm smoothly, your eyes followed the barrel of your blaster. 

Tree, damn it. Let me hit you.

Your eyes shut for a split second as you squeezed the trigger. A slight burst of energy shifted your hand half an inch. No sound of impact. 

You looked at the tree in dismay. 

The stump was definitely still there, not like it could dodge blaster bolts. Even if it could move, it wouldn’t have to avoid anything. The patch of brush next to it though? Thoroughly burnt. 

“And this is why I train close combat,” you patted at your vibroblade strapped to your thigh. 

“This is why you need practice,” Din moved next to you as you holstered your blaster, “Here.” He held his bare hand out to you, glove clutched in his left. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled. Gingerly, you grasped onto his hand with both of yours, thumbs tracing across his bruised knuckles. Din gave the slightest tilt in acknowledgement. You brought his warm hand right to your face, breaking out into a smile.

“I’m gonna get it for sure this time,” you said before placing a small kiss on his hand, “Now put that glove back on and watch me hit this damn target.”

Din chuckled as he backpedaled a few steps, looking on as you drew your blaster, aiming perfectly at the tree.

Breathe. You got this. It’s a completely immobile target. You thought to yourself. 

You squeezed the trigger and with a loud crack, the stump had a glaring split right down the middle where your bolt hit true. 

“Stars, yes!” You shouted in glee. Deftly turning the safety back on, you holstered the blaster and ran to Din, his arms already opening to wrap around you. 

“Knew you could do it,” he said, pulling you in lightly so the beskar wouldn’t bite into your skin. 

“Does this mean I can try out the rest of your armory?” 

“No.”

[sor-vette]

two, down!! (index/description)

☜ one, strike!!

☞ three, an all-out fight club!!

It was the middle of February. The month of perpetual grey and rain. It tapped against the small cubic window of your bedroom as you laid in bed reading the text.

Erik: "Meeting, you and me. Main building. Now! Wear something without any blood on it. 😘"

The phone falls out of your hands and smacks you in the middle of the nose.

"Ow."

***

You already see Erik in the distance. A bright red shirt flowing around him like a drape in the frequent bursts of wind. Across the river, he looks like a will-o'-the-wisp and you can't help but be increasingly apprehensive about what has he planned.

You get off the bus in the middle of the bridge, stop and glare at the circular high rise. Legally known as Bighit - an independent advisory firm for various claims, to the large variety of your clientele it was BH - vigilante made business. Briefly put a vast clockface with thousands of cogs spinning both on the own and tandem with others. It looked and sounded and you knew it to be an imposing organization. Nevertheless, you entertained the idea of how would this company would fall and could it be possible to burn down all the spider webs it has formed in the now 22 years of its existence.

"Good morning!" Erik beams widely, trembling in the wind. His pirate shirt not doing anything to help the situation. In his hands, there is a thick brown folder. The sight of it begins a gnawing motion in the stomach.

"What are you doing?" you ask suspiciously, studying his face for any giveaway. Which of course there were a lot. He was still young both in the field and age. The little runt was mostly brazen, often impolite and careless. But now, now, he was nervous. Maybe it wasn't even the weather that had him shaking like a leaf.

"Oh, I'm taking my enrollment review today. In 20 minutes to be precise."

What was gnawing had turned into a stone that travelled up, ignoring the gravity, and settled deep in your chest pressing down and creating a hole. A horrible numb feeling that you'd hoped you wouldn't feel again. And again. And again. And now once more.

"Oh."

You take a moment to force your voice to remain unfazed but even to your own ears, it sounds too hoarse and slow.

"Don't you need my referral?"

"I asked Olga." Yes. Olga. That's why you didn't know.

"So let's go up?" if Erik had a tail it would wag at lighting speed. He is not just nervous but positively jittery. You had seen him this happy...never. Yeah, this was the first time. When he would officially enrol in another department, at best giving you a clap on the back for all the trouble caused and moved on. In a week he would give you a distant wave, in a month maybe a nod if you passed by in a hallway, in half a year it'll be like you never even existed.

You nod quietly entering the glass doors. BH was a massive, subtly hidden maze, much like the overall organization. By the schematics and the layout, no one would give a second thought that it would be more than just an ordinary office firm. But of course, what they didn't know and what was a closely guarded secret were the literal hundreds of small alcoves and passes hidden within the walls. Meant for in case of a sudden police raid. Not to mention the literal escape tunnel that stretched underneath the river you just passed. No one knew exactly how it looked like or how it was even built. Some said it was an abandoned underground transit system from WW2, others said that it was built in the early years of the BH establishment having cost literal billions. But no one knew the truth. Even Namjoon had shrugged when you asked him, long ago already.

In silence, you both take the escalator upwards. To the 25th floor, a.k.a. the 7th department - the literal heads of the system. The building usually had hundreds of people running from one place to another but even so, this was a large commotion for an event this small.

In the doorways there stands a tall woman and you nearly bite your tongue off at the sight of her ramrod back.

"Petsch." You growl and Erik beside you throws a surprised glance.

She turns around almost immediately. As if hearing you or just sensing your presence like the ill-bred Cerberus that she was.

"Hello, .̴̭͙̪̻̈́.̸̮̟̳̐͆͘͠.̶͚̉͛.̸̺̞̉͐̈́̐͋.̶̟̻̺̽͛̒̚.̷̗̱̃.̶̮͚̼̾͜͜.̷͉̋̈́̐̔͝.̵͖͛̓͆.̷̼̲̥̙͆̊̊͝͝.̸̢͕̔.̸̜̜̲͈̅͜͠.̵̱̤̆̑͘.̸͖̰̣͈̾̊̈́́́ " Her glee is almost maniacal as she power walks towards your little group.

"Deputy Petsch. How wonderful to grace our Earthly realm with your presence. I did wonder why it looked like the skies were weeping."

"It's Chief of Staff now," she corrects getting even closer, "to no one's surprise I've been promoted while you've been demoted."

"Yes, I can see the stress of the new position. Or is that just your face?"

In the corner of your eye, you can see Erik standing completely still, his head darting from one speaker to another bemused.

"As the Chief of Staff, I'm here to evaluate your...pet." Erik gives a silent wave and Rosaline narrows her eyes, most likely not knowing what to make of him.

"What happened to Michael?" Petsch scoffs at your question.

"He retired to live with his family so much so for living a dignified life." You straighten stubbornly at the newly given information. Erik's hands are still lightly trembling, along with the file in his hand.

"Interesting. I will attempt corporation." You push out through gritted teeth but immediately get one of Rosaline's bony vulture fingers thrust in your face.

"Don't even try to sweet talk me!"

In return, you snap your fingers near her outstretched hand. A gesture you would normally never do but it was Rosaline. Anything but an abnormal reaction could ward off this lietonis off your neck. (a/n)

"I tried to be peaceful. Well then. Let's. Begin." She huffs and puffs and then stalks over to the lecture hall, her tight blonde ponytail swinging like the world's most obnoxious metronome.

Erik stands silently for a few short moments before -

"The fuck was that about?" You hide your face in the palm of your hand. If Rosaline was here for the panel review then this little fucker had no idea what was coming.

"Rosaline and I have what you would call an uncivil work relationship."

"A rivalry?"

"No, a rivalry with another woman would be inherently attractive. Rosaline just...sucks the lifeforce out of me like a goddamn Dementor." Erik chuckles at the sight of your displeasure but a quiet bell coming from within the lecture hall stills him again.

"Please all attendees take your seat! We're about to start soon!" A faceless voice calls over the crowd and the unpleasant feeling that Petsch managed to eradicate away for a moment returns worse than ever. Your own hands begin to mutely tremble. Erik looks close to passing out.

"You're going to be fine." You say gently bumping into him, "you're my trainee after all."

***

Oh, he's going to be not fine at all.

For some reason, the hall is literally stuffed with attendees.

The enrollment panel reviews despite the name, yes, was actually an open doors event. Much like an undergrad presenting a thesis it had a panel of judges and a crowd of listeners. Usually, it was limited to other potential interviewees who wanted to get a sneak peek in the twisted action to come but the number of people was 5 if not 10 times more audience than what you've ever been in.

Truth be told you never knew how friendly Erik was with other departments but even if he was a magnet surely this crowd was too massive.

With a rapidly rising anxiety, you start to pick out familiar faces. Some of them your trainees and previous teammates, some who gave you a stink eye, and then some with whom you didn't want to interact.

On the third row there sits Jungkook and sweet Jesus what were they feeding him in the footsoldier department. He was now almost twice as large as he had been when you last saw him. One tap of those arms and you'd be in an automatic knockout. Behind him sits Jimin, also looking confused as to why he's here. Which is somehow even more offputting considering he's the one who decided to be here. In the back rows, there is Jin, face hidden in his hands, large sunglasses pushed atop of his head. The only reason why you recognize him at all is that those very sunglasses had "JIN" in large letters above the rim. Naturally.

At this point, your insides are just a gaping screaming void of pure social terror as you start to suspect they were all here. While scanning the crowd you notice an orange fleck that is surrounded by a gaggle of students who eagerly listen to every falling word. That would be Hope. And far closer to the seat that you wanted to take sits V. For reasons unknown he was perched in the first row, fiddling with the strap of the camera. The last thing you want is to meet that vitriolic, judgmental stare of his but it would be unfair to Eric to sit anywhere else. The supervisor, even the one who had no idea that the review was taking place and did not actually write the referral, always sat in the front. The little scamp should have at least that.

You sit down stiffly with your hands bunched up in fists and shoulders tightened to the point where it was almost painful. V pretends he doesn't recognize you. You turn around once again to look over the crowd, almost meeting Jungkook's gaze but he suddenly finds his shoes to be the most captivating image in the world. Jin nearly takes off his jaw while ducking below the chair line and Hope is still surrounded by his devoted students. Jimin is persistent in looking disoriented.

In the faraway upper back, behind the fifteen rows of cascading seats, there is a second door. Slightly ajar and leading to complete darkness but you can swear there is a hand holding the doors open. For a moment you wonder who would hide away in a dark side room only to silently observe everyone but then you know exactly who. Yoongi. You whip around so fast the chair makes a loud squeak. In the peripheral vision, you make out a movement from V but he turns back to the camera without a second thought.

No, Erik was in deep trouble. The panel of judges or should you say evaluators was much too high standing for the first time enrolment. Rosaline Petsch's choice of coming here could be attributed to her being a harpy. Sure. Namjoon, although a CEO was known to just arrive at small scale events, to fully support his staff and also fully give them untreatable heart conditions. But the following had no place being here: Rhys Bethany, the key speaker of yesterday's anniversary and the head of Internal Affairs. Rahul Singh, chief of Communications. Tamira Johnson, head of International Affairs. Shen Qiongzi, head of Large Operations management. And two others whom you didn't even recognize. These were some of the biggest names of the entire organization and also the most bewildering. Strictly speaking, none of them had any input on the hiring or the enrolment process. The matters far, far below their usual duties.

Why were they here? Had Namjoon invited them? Why would he? Because he was still angry at you and was punishing Erik for it? He wouldn't do that but would he? Were you being narcissistic for thinking it had anything to do with you??

Whatever the answer was, hearing the last bell ring and seeing Erik, suddenly look very small and scared climbing up on the stage without even the protection of his notes folder... You felt a lot like seeing a crowd of shrikes encircle one mouse. You squeeze the handles of your chair, rocking back and forth with anxiety.

"As part of your legal right, what would be Your prefered choice of name for the course of this review?" You hear Ms Johnson speak. Erik picks up the microphone to speak...

....not a sound comes out of his mouth. You cringe.

"My real one, ma'am," he finally manages to croak after a moment of silence that was perhaps too long to be unnoticeable.

"Thank you. We will begin the first part of the enrolment request review for Erik Genyer."

You blanch at her words. The first part... meaning that what is about to happen was an actual full, point by point review and not the shortened version that came into popularity in recent years. The review would last three hours and it was three hours of ruthless questioning.

You grip the handles even tighter.

***

Erik fares surprisingly well. After the initial shock, he starts to melt into well-rounded answers. After the five minute pause in between the two parts, he even starts to subtly lean into humouring the panel, offering sarcastic, unhelpful comments. Truly one you could call your own.

Your heart is in continuing thunder as it beats harder with each given situation and particularly hard question. At this point, you have tossed and turned and quietly whined at every to the degree that it is noticeable to everyone in the room. And that in itself pushes to a worrying realization that Erik had somehow managed to slither his unholy way into your heart and become not just a trainee under your care but a friend. Like a proper friend. A friend that would leave you in literally the span of 10 minutes.

Namjoon who was eerily silent for most of the hearing, providing only two softball questions, had noticed your flighty twitching and leaned back to glance at you. You look at the ground knowing that you were perhaps not in the right mindset to put on a facade of your somewhat trademarked blasé attitude.

For God's sakes, you were not even this nervous in your own review but then again you had resigned yourself to the bottom of the barrel. Erik was not.

Finally, he passes the third part of the review. He had taken a few hits, all of which delivered by Petsch, but overall came out with impressive results. Two things were left to unfold. The panel would ask him what was his preferred choice of the department and then either allow it or politely indicate his skills would be more useful in another department and refer him there.

"Mr Genyer do you have a specific department choice?" Mr Singh asks politely. He'd been a tough but fair reviewer nevertheless it was always Namjoon who asked this question. Why was he so quiet? What was the point of showing up if he was going to be silent?

"I have." Erik answers and you see a smile form in his mouth. It was his bastard smile. Eerily similar to the picture of the cat surrounded by knives. You've seen that expression many times, mostly when he was breaths away from pissing off a lot of people.

"And what would that be, sir?"

"The cleaner department."

....

....

....

Not a single person breathes. Not a sound is made. The panel has gone speechless. You think your heart has stopped entirely.

"I'm sorry, do you mind repeating that?"

Erik couldn't look smugger as everyone stared at him.

"I'd like to work in the cleaner department."

The second time he says it causes an uproar. People actually stand up in the back. You hear a crunch to your side. Tae dropped his camera on the ground. There's so much noise you can't even decipher what is being said. Vaguely you maybe hear Jin's loud ass "what?" but that also could be literally anyone else.

The panel has to turn around and repeatedly shush the crowd. It is not an easy task. You just stare at Erik, mouth dropped open, eyes bugging out and he gives a self-satisfied smirk.

"I promise tomorrow you’ll have reparations."

These were the reparations. As the crowd finally eases back you let out a breath, lungs screaming for oxygen. Hadn't even noticed the lack of breathing process.

"Why would you choose a cleaner department?" It is finally Namjoon's turn to speak but he too sounds astounded all the way to outer space.

"It is a lowly position." So low in fact, they were not in the count of departments. Hence the status of 0 out of 7. You're hit with another realization. "Aspiring 0". The one Erik had placed in his Instagram bio. It was not zero aspirations that you thought he meant, no he was aspiring to be 0. And suddenly it makes sense. Him being such a little pain in the ass, always sneaking off, taking cases well above his position, taking yesterday's case in fact. All to rank up and enter the review faster. You don't even know how to function with this information.

"Why would you choose the cleaner department?" There was only one person who had chosen the cleaner department. A year ago. You. But even back then the choice was between quitting altogether or becoming part of the 0.

"The cleaner department is as hard-working and as essential as any other position in the organization." He shrugs.

"Yes, but why choose it?" Ms Shen pursues. You can hear it in her voice that she simply cannot comprehend why would anyone choose to work there. Honestly neither can you.

"I like it there. The cleaner department has the friendliest, most genuine and accepting people I've met among all departments. Also, I've had the most supportive, protective mentor anyone could wish for. I've never been more inspired to both be myself and improve forward as I have under their tutelage and I hope that by working in the cleaner department I can repay them for the faith they had and hopefully continue to have in me."

His request is approved and after a quiet "review ended" Erik is officially given the position of the evidence removal department.

***

The crowd is restless. There's not a soul that's not debating outside the room. Everyone huddled up together. What Erik did today would go down in the history of the company. Right next to your name.

Briefly, you encounter Petsch who throws something snide in your direction but you brush past her without a second thought. Finally, you find that stupid red shirt, snuggled against the window. You break out in a sprint and smack him in the middle of the chest.

"OW!"

"Why would you do that?" You yell. Why are you yelling? You don't know. You're happy. Literally so happy. Erik begins to laugh, kinda nerdily as he is snorting a bit like a pig.

"You should have seen your face! Oh, man, I wish I had my camera with me! Oh, a picture truly is worth more than a thousand words."

"You idiot! I trained you," you deliver a smack "so you could," a smack, "have a better life!" Erik's smile doesn't falter for a second.

"What's better? It's a shithole here anyways. So they pay me more in other departments. The money I'd spend on therapy for working there would still decimate my pay into non-existence."

You stop hitting him as something dangerous bubbles up your throat. The hole in the chest filled. No, not that, he will never let me live if I do, you think to yourself.

"Are you actually crying?" Erik giggles his expression turning somewhat strange.

"No."

You do end up crying. After taking you to Omelas where surprise, surprise, your inner circle of other cleaners and Irina were waiting. Diego was already rolling on the floor with Liz trying to pull him up in a somewhat vertically inclined position. J.D. giving a quiet, appreciative nod and S - Jo along with Byun screaming their lungs out in some kind of celebratory song. You can't even tell which language they are screaming in.

Olga looks at the scene with mild amusement. If you'd had become a little bit like an unwilling older sister to this little horde of gremlins then Olga was like everyone's collective mom. How many of your messes and mood swings had she endured? You couldn't even count but you remember how badly you were afraid of disappointing her. And if Erik felt even the half of that...

It was then and after two bottles of vodka that you started sobbing. But just a little bit. After all, you hadn't cried in a while and if there was a better place to cry it was among this little makeshift family.

***

(a/n: lietonis, more commonly known as lietuvēns is a spirit from my country's folklore that is rumoured to strangle people and animals in their sleep. Basically something like a sleep paralysis demon.)

[scullydubois]

history in retrograde

~aka I try my hand at smut (!)~  read on a03

I'm totally out of my comfort zone here so uhhh...if this isn't the most embarrassing thing you've ever read, let me know! Also I know the title doesn't really make sense but I thought it sounded cool...if history is the past, and retrograde means going backwards, does history in retrograde mean moving forward? That's my thinking.

tagging @today-in-fic & @willowrose99

Scully is surprised to learn she's not the only one Mulder has pinned to the basement desk. Rated M, 1.5k. Set in season 7.

Her breath catches as he thrusts into her, her petite form shifting like a boat at the ocean’s mercy. She throws her head back in ecstasy. Her gaze catches the pencils stuck in the ceiling, noting that they form a mirror of her and her partner’s current position. How ironic. 

His hands envelop her exposed collarbone, pinning her to the desk she once resented him for having. That day seems like something that must have occurred in a dream, so distant from her current self that it can’t possibly have been real. She had been angry at him then. Thinking of leaving. Now he is one with her, and she doesn’t ever want to leave.

She started this. One day she wanted him inside her, and she didn’t want to wait until they were in her car, or on his couch, or in whoever’s bed they sought refuge in that night. A purely selfish motive, yet they both reaped the benefits. And after that first time, they’d be crazy not to do it again. 

Location aside, their office jaunts are a bit different than how they usually do it--though, thankfully, it has the same ending. When they are alone--alone alone, without the arousing threat of someone walking in on their little deviation from investigation--Scully unleashes. Her role as the long-suffering woman in a patriarchal sector is swapped for one a little more...dominant, and Mulder enjoys being at her behest. 

But in the office, she gives herself over to him. Her want is so overpowering that it needs to be smothered before the flame sets everything around her alight. 

And now he’s got her shirt unbuttoned down to her belly button, his lips switching eagerly between the plush where her breasts curve over her bra (black lace--she must have known what was in store when she got dressed this morning) and the metal ring in her navel. She’s had it since she was eighteen, but only started wearing it again because Mulder’s eyes popped out of his head the one night she put it in on a whim. 

He kisses a path from her navel to her sternum, pulling the straps of her bra off her shoulders and locking his mouth around her pert left nipple. Her heartbeat pulses against his nose. 

“Mulder…” she writhes under him, trying to maintain her dignity for as long as possible. Her fingernails scratch through his button-up. 

“C’mon baby, cum for me,” he murmurs into her skin. “I want the whole building to hear you, I want them to know how good I make you feel.”

He never gets to be this cocky when she’s in control, so he takes advantage of it while he can. He takes one hand off her collarbone to wrap her legs around his hips. The friction between them is almost unbearable.

He pulls his hips back, nearly exiting her entirely, then rolls forward in a smooth motion. Scully lets out a shriek, her hand flying to her mouth to muffle the sound. Before it can make it, Mulder grabs her wrist.

“No, no, no,” he taunts, pinning that wrist above her head, still thrusting into her. “And don’t even try the other hand, or it’ll go there too.”

She careens her fingernails into his back in protest. He chuckles and catches her bottom lip between his, sucking on it like he’s got to remove poison to save her life. She moans into his mouth. 

He rubs circles over her left areola with his free thumb. Her moaning intensifies. “Mulder...please…” she gasps as they come up for air. 

He moves to the right areola. “Here?” 

She trembles beneath him. He knows exactly what she wants but he’s too caught up to give it away so quickly. 

“Here?” He says, rubbing circles over her navel. She bites down on his bottom lip to shut him up.

He drags his finger down, down, down, until he’s between her legs. He swipes her clit, and she bucks up into him, whimpering.

“Oh, there?” he teases, nuzzling her neck. He continues massaging circles over her, and he feels her muscles tense beneath him. 

“Oh, fuck…” she breathes. He lets go of her wrist, and it joins the other on his back. She claws into him, her entire being shrinking around him…

He sucks in a breath as it hits, the sensation reverberating between them and making it impossible to distinguish their orgasms from each other. 

“Fuck! Fox! Fuck!” Scully screams in spite of herself. Mulder keeps her pressed to him so she can feel his every crest. She squeaks and whimpers as she rides out their bliss. For once, she’s glad they’re sequestered in the basement. 

When it’s over (somehow time froze and sped up all in one), Mulder slides out of her and rolls onto his back. He watches as her chest rises and falls, and god, he’s never loved a woman or a moment so much. 

He zips up as she, still lying flat against the desk, begins to button her shirt. 

“Working hard, or hardly working?” he quips, waiting for his breath to catch back up with him. 

Scully sputters out a laugh and rolls onto her side, her lips caressing his. She squeezes his hand. “Thank you.”

He chuckles. “The pleasure is all mine.” 

“I’m imagining a crystal ball showing me that the first time I walked into this room,” Scully giggles. 

“You wouldn’t have believed it?”

“I wouldn’t have wanted to.”

“Well, all it took was seven years of my gentlemanly courting…”

“...and here we are,” Scully finishes with a smile.

She’s quiet for a moment, then she sits up, prompting Mulder to follow. “Could you have imagined that?” she asks coyly, swinging her legs. 

“That I’d be fucking you senseless on my desk in seven years?”

Scully makes a face. “Yeah.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say that I saw it coming, but nothing’s ever out of the realm of extreme possibility…” he says with a goofy smirk. 

Scully straightens out her skirt. She’s taken to wearing one to the office these days, it makes such exchanges go a lot smoother. 

“Had you ever fantasized about it?” she asks, the flirtatious glimmer still in her eyes.

“About you, or doing it on the desk?”

“Both.”

“Well, yes, but I tended not to dwell on the desk so much. That was always more of Diana’s thing.”

Scully looks at him with a start. “You and Diana?...On the desk?”

“It wasn’t a frequent thing like with us. I think we did it maybe once or twice.” And then, with a smirk--”She wasn’t as insatiable as you.”

Scully frowns, and he taps her playfully, relieving her woes. “I’m just kidding. She was notoriously hard to please. And I didn’t find table-surfing very sexy then. It was actually more of a chore. Always her idea.”

“Well, this was my idea too.”

He looks at her with dopey eyes. “Scully, I’ve been ready to take you anywhere anytime since I realized you’ll have me.”

“But do you not like it?” she asks, concern growing in her voice. She tugs at her clothes self-consciously.

He kisses her temple. “Oh, it was so hot. So good. I should be thanking you for even laying eyes on me.”

She gazes at him with a half-smile, not quite convinced. He rests his chin on her shoulder. “Do you have any idea what a middle finger it is to everyone who's ever called me Spooky when you scream my name and it echoes off the walls of this office?”

“Well, now that I know I’m not the first…”

“But you are the last,” he assures her. “And you know what?” he says with a mischievous grin. “I’ve never echoed anyone’s name off the walls of this office.”

Now he’s got her attention. “Really?”

He nods. “Some people don’t give a damn about reciprocity,” he growls, throwing shade where it’s warranted. 

“But I do,” Scully coos. 

“I know you do,” he swoons. His lips meet her neck with a vengeance. He wants his presence to be known to all.

She basks in it for a moment, then--remembering herself--places a hand on his chest and leans away. “Good things come to those who wait,” she says cryptically. 

She hops off the desk and turns back to him with a fiery glare. “Tomorrow I’m going to bend you over that desk until you forget your own name and it’s all you can do to scream mine over and over,” she purrs. 

He licks his lips. “A friend of mine once said ‘eat, drink, and be merry for tomorrow we may die.’” 

She smirks. “That friend isn’t exactly following the advice of the Bible at the moment.”

“I’ve noticed.”

She sneaks over to him and stands on her tip-toes to meet his lips. He grasps her waist and breathes her in. “I love you, Daaannna.” He drags it out in a sappy way. 

Scully smiles up at him. “Love you too.” She sighs. “I mean, I love you, Fox.”

Their eyes meet, creating new universes. And so it shall be. 

[vocalyunho]

Remember My Name

Pairing: Yeosang x Reader (fem).  Genre: smut (synopsis: you meet in a club and you both have the same thing in mind). Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: consumption of alcohol (don’t drink if you’re underage), explicit protected sex, blowjob, clit stimulation, BDSM-slight masochism, slight choking.

[READ!] Author’s Note: please be careful if or when having sex or any type of sexual activity with strangers. STDs are out there and are very dangerous, this is only a fic. Take care.

Agreeing to accompany your friends in a club on a Friday night wasn’t the best decision you made this week. You knew you’d regret it the moment you stepped foot in the place and you did...and now you’re trying to withstand this type of ‘having fun’ by drinking more than usual and it’s only 12:25am.

Places like this aren’t really your type nor is the music that’s playing, but you’re already on your third drink of the night and the dizziness has slightly hit you. You actually have a good time in clubs if you drink enough not to mind the horrible vibes of the place and that’s exactly what’s happening now. Your friends are all dancing around you and so are you. The place is packed, sweaty bodies move to the rhythm of the music that’s playing, people grind their bodies on each other, others are making out -more like eating each other’s faces- like there’s no one around, but them. Are they really having this much fun or is it the alcoholic influence? You can’t tell and you won’t try to because your body’s moving to the unknown melody too. Your mind’s not on its right state, you’re smiley all the time, sweat’s started dripping from your forehead and the glass in your hand is already empty. The stranger from the other side of the club keeps staring at you and you can feel him undressing you with his eyes every time you accidentally make eye contact with him. He must be here with his group of friends too because he keeps laughing and joking around with the people around him, but his gaze keeps turning back to you. At this point, you’re not even trying to look away. He’s too handsome not to stare at and too provocative not to lose yourself in the way his body’s moving.

You didn’t realise when he came closer to where you and your friends were or when he started dancing with you. His hands found your waist and he pressed his body on yours in a steep way. You laughed and rubbed your ass against him. He didn’t hesitate to press his -hardening- member against you and keep dancing like nothing’s happening. You can’t lie to yourself, he keeps rubbing and pressing himself in you from behind, and you’ve started feeling hazy. Not from the alcohol this time, but from the growing desire to ‘get to know him better’. You turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck as he caressed your sides slowly. Your eyes met his lips and he smirked like he knew what you were thinking. Taking the glass from your hand, he let it on the bar counter and came close to your ear.

“Should we go somewhere more private?” he said, loud enough for you to hear his raspy voice.

“sure” you smiled and your eyes fell on his lips again. They’re red and plump. They seem soft, but you’ll never know if you don’t get a taste.

“follow me”. He took your hand and guided you through the groups of people to the toilets. No one’s in here and the music sounds distant, but still kinda loud. He pinned you against the wall and took your features in, now that the lighting is stronger and better. He’s indeed handsome, God really put effort when making him. He came closer and let his tongue run over your lip, only to bite on it and kiss you hard. His hands held yours against the wall as his tongue slid in your mouth with a smooth move. He swirled it around and played with yours like it’s his favourite hobby until you moaned against him and he laughed knowing exactly what he’s doing to you. You tilted your head and kissed him back hungrily, but then he sucked on your lower lip and your knees felt like they’d give up anytime. He’s so good. You kept kissing like it’s the end of the world but the lack of oxygen made you break the kiss and pause at where your lips were barely touching. You looked at each other, breathing each other’s air and you felt dizzier than before, but the wetness pooling your underwear was asking for more.

You pushed him in a stall and locked the door behind you. You looked at him and before he could do anything you dropped to your knees, unbuckling his belt fast. His dick sprang out like it was locked inside for too long and the lust made you lick your lips too outrageously before taking him in your mouth.

“shiiit” his head fell forwards and his hands tried to hold on each side of the stall’s walls. You’re not very experienced but you swirled your tongue around and your hand stroked the part that couldn’t fit in your mouth. His breathing got faster. The sucking made your cheeks hollow and weird sounds left your mouth, but when you looked at him, his expression relieved you. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth hang open as his eyes were stuck on how his dick disappeared in your mouth.

“ffuuuck-I’m gonna co-me” you took him out and pumped him fast. His moans got louder and louder until he came all over the wall. He tried to catch his breath and when he didn’t move for a bit, you thought that this was all...his goal was to get his dick sucked tonight and he got what he wanted. So, you slowly stood up with effort. You should’ve thought that the hard surface would make your knees sore, but now it’s too late. As you tried standing, you almost fell and tried to hold onto the wall but your eyes accidentally noticed his still hard dick hitting his stomach. He just came, but no one would be able to tell from the erection this guy has.

“dude, I just sucked you off”

“yeah, but I didn’t get to fuck you yet” he smirked and pushed his sleeves up to his elbows. The sight made you rub your thighs together and he noticed.

“no no no, let me take care of that”, he said moving his body closer as he shoved his hand between your legs to spread them out. His lips hovered over yours in a cheeky smile and his left hand grasped your chin, only to push your head up and expose your neck. The way he held you there, pressed against the stall’s door, not being able to move with his hands all over you, made you feel some type of way and it took you everything not to moan out how you wanted him to hurry. You pushed your hips back and forth to get some friction, but he immobilised you by moving his hand inside your pants. He found your clit instantly but didn’t part your folds...your breathing hitched when he started drawing circles above them and if it wasn’t for your neck being sensitive you wouldn’t have realised how he had already started sucking on it.

“o-ohmygod” your eyes fell heavy. His fingers kept rubbing on your clit, asking more and more pressure and your mouth hang open at the feeling. A whine escaped your mouth and he bit down on your neck to keep you quiet. Your only view is the ceiling but all other sensations are focused on how he feels on you. Other than his body being pressed against you, there’s nothing else holding you up...your knees have long lost all strength there was in them.

“oh g-god” your legs started quivering.

“Be a good girl and keep quiet” he said before fastening the circles.

“I ccan’t- oh fuck, yes YES”

“do you wanna come on my fingers?”

“ I wanna come on your dick”, you cooed and he laughed against your neck.

You didn’t realise when he removed his hands and turned you around, but when his bulge touched your clothed back, you shamelessly grinded against it. He hissed at the friction and pressed you harder against the door. You rubbed more in hopes of getting a slap, but the only thing you received was a laugh mixed with effort not to shove himself inside you.

“Didn’t know it did that” his tone was playful.

“Don’t make me wait longer”

“Don’t you know that patience is the key to success?” he sure is some wiseass, but you didn’t bother answering back because you heard him dragging his pants down.

You waited there long enough to realise he slid a condom on his length and then he pulled your pants down along with your underwear. He caressed you ass and grabbed your sides firmly before sinking his dick in you with a smooth move.

“shiittt you’re big” you hissed and your eyebrows furrowed.

“that’s only half of it, baby”.

He pulled out and snapped his hips hard. There’s one thing you love more than riding someone and that’s being fucked from behind. He kept his pace slow and when he made sure you were used to it, he bottomed out without a warning.

“Oh GOD”

“fuck, you’re tight”, he groaned.

He slammed his hips against your ass and the sound of skin slapping against skin got more frequent as he peaked up the pace. You had to hold on the handle to keep yourself steady, but your whole body bounced in the rhythm of his hard thrusts.

“fucmphph-”

“keep your mouth shut, baby” he grabbed a fistful of your hair and your eyes snapped open. He fucked into you faster. Every thrust got accompanied with a grunt by him and a choked whimper by you. You put every strength left in you to keep quiet like he asked you, but you failed miserably. Your warmth welcomed every inch like it needed him and only him. The slapping sound got louder.

“Jesus fuc- Christ YES”

“I said be fucking quiet”, he pulled your hair hard and your back met his chest as his other hand wrapped around your neck. You let your head fall on his shoulder and if you weren’t getting fucked right now, you’d love to stare at how beautiful he looks from this angle.

“ohmygod YES”

With a single thrust he hit your deepest spot “yeees YES”

His hold around your neck tightened and a guilty moan escaped his lips.

“com-, come all over me”

“ha-harder, pplease”

“Isn’t that enough for you?” he murmured and your eyes rolled back as he fucked harder. His tip was touching the spot inside you that made you wanna scream, but you swallowed all louder sounds. How do you keep getting wetter and wetter while he’s fucking you like that?

“ohmy- there, there, THERE”

The hand on your hair disappeared and a second later you heard a loud smack and felt a burning on your ass, and then a second one and a third one.

“oh fuck ME” you smiled at yourself as loud cries came out of your mouth.

“I enjoy t-this more than I should”, he spoke in your ear through greeted teeth. His dick started twitching and he lost his rhythm, but kept hitting deep.

“shit, I’m cclose”

“that’s it YES” your walls clenched around his length and your mouth hang open in a silent scream.

“fuck I’m gonna-”

“IM CO—MING” you felt the knot in your stomach getting untied as he sent you over the top with one last hard thrust. He released you from his strong hold and let his cum fill the condom with loud groans and choked curses leaving his lips. Your knees got so weak, you almost kneeled as your fluids run down your legs. If you moved an inch, you’d fall so you just held on the door in front of you until your release was all over your pants.

“shit, what am I gonna do now?”, you said but he was too immersed in his job of tieing the used latex and throwing it away. The mess on your trousers is too vivid, to just get away with it until you’re home.

“take my jacket” he suddenly spoke from behind you.

“what?”

“take it to leave”

“I- okay”

You exchanged no words as you wiped yourself as best as you could and tied his jacket around your waist. But when you were about to leave he spoke up.

“I didn’t seem to catch your name earlier”

“Y/N”

“that was a good fuck, Y/N”

“And yours?”

“It’s Yeosang...remember it because you’ll have to scream it next time”

[crossdressingdeath]

(1/3) It always amuses me how stans try to justify JC actions by his abusive upbringing while there were 3 children in that family and both others turned very kind and/or very moral and not at all like JC (and frankly, he didn't even have the hardest position in the dysfunctional dynamic). Or LXC and LWJ whose upbringing was even more screwed up with a LQ who was certainly playing favorites and wanting perfection, and yet this never draw a wedge between them or created any jealousy.

(2/3)LXC loves for LWJ to excel! Same with "but JC had it so hard rebuilding Lotus Pier, WWX was goofing off with the Wens"...JC was paying people to do that for him, yes, while WWX was trying to start from scratch a settlement over a mountain of corpses with a bunch of weak or old people and not to die of hunger comes winter. While separated from all his friends and hated as a monster by the cultivation world. "But JC was so lonely during the 13/16y, so that justifies him lashing out" And WWX

(3/3) was dead, killed by his brother and thinking that there was not a person left on his side in the end, and yet, that didn't make him act like a dick? Or athg else really, because everything that JC went through in the past, WWX did also, but in a worse way because he lost his parents young, lived in the streets, didn't have JC societal privilege or money and has to harness an unstable necromancy practice on top of that. And yet no one uses it as arguments to explain his actions, only for JC 

Honestly? While none of the Jiang kids were in a good position, out of the three of them... JC did have it the easiest. It was still awful for him, don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting his childhood didn’t suck, but given it was made very clear to JYL that her only purpose was to be married off to JZX so her mother could tie her bloodline to her best friend’s and WWX was treated like a servant at best... Yeah. If I had to pick, I’d choose having a distant father and dealing with a mother who’s constantly emotionally abusive over having a distant father and dealing with a mother who’s constantly emotionally abusive and being treated like a bargaining chip/treated like a servant and/or bastard and being whipped for actions that would get the rest of the clan a lecture at worst. Again, I’m not saying JC didn’t have it bad, but his siblings having it worse is... interesting, given neither of them decided to be dicks to Literally Everyone over it.

I do have to say, even though this is about JC, there’s nothing suggesting LQR was playing favourites with LXC and LWJ. He was strict, yes, probably stricter than he should’ve been, and LXC probably did get more one-on-one interaction with him, but given LXC was going to be sect leader/became sect leader at a young age that makes sense. This is not super important to the point of this post, but I do find it odd how often people make LQR out to be this horrible person who’s always awful to his nephews because he’s Strict when we... don’t actually know anything about how he raised them. I don’t like him all that much, and he probably didn’t do a fantastic job of raising them, but the man did try, and he clearly wants his nephews to be safe and happy (even though he has inaccurate views of what that entails...), and given how the parents/parental figures of the cast generally act he deserves some credit for that. Also the Twin Jades ended up considerably better-adjusted than most of their age group, which... isn’t saying much all things considered but it does say something. If nothing else neither of them seem to feel actively unsafe around him, so he’s definitely not the worst parental figure in this novel.

...I had a surprising number of thoughts on LQR there. Whoops, sorry about the tangent. Maybe I’ll make a post about him at some point. Anyway, yeah, LXC and LWJ clearly adore each other! LXC would be delighted if LWJ surpassed him at something! Same with Nie bros; they argue a lot, but there’s no denying that they love each other. That’s what insults and threats out of love look like; NMJ threatens NHS all the time, but NHS clearly isn’t all that bothered by it until JGY starts fucking with NMJ’s mind and the threats become more serious, which really isn’t NMJ’s fault. It’s because in the other sibling relationships both parties are invested in staying close. They love each other and want to be close for the rest of their lives! Meanwhile JC is obsessed with WWX outperforming him at Literally Everything, and WWX genuinely believes that JC is allowed to treat him the way he does and it’s fine and healthy.

And yeah, JC wasn’t exactly rebuilding Lotus Pier all by his lonesome with his own two hands. In fact, going by what we see all the rebuilding was done well before WWX left! And I don’t doubt for a second that WWX was involved in that process; I have very mixed feelings about the scene in CQL where he blows off his duties to go and get drunk, because on the one hand it does do a good job of showing just how bad his mental state is getting (and how JC refuses to acknowledge it despite WWX obviously being Not Okay), but on the other hand... I just can’t see WWX not throwing himself into helping JC with everything he’s got even while his mental state is coming crashing down around him. I mean, this is the guy who created an incredibly powerful weapon that even he couldn’t fully control, not knowing what using it would do to him, to help his brother win a war. I’m pretty much certain that WWX ran himself into the ground helping JC rebuild and run the sect... then when he found himself in charge of a small group of desperate people, scrambling to keep them fed and clothed and healthy, JC just abandoned him to deal with it on his own.

And the whole “Oh, but JC was so lonely, don’t you feel bad for him?” shtick. I hate it so much. If he didn’t want to be lonely, he should’ve considered that before alienating everyone in his age group and leading an army to murder his brother, the only person left who was willing to put up with him! It’s... really hard to feel bad for someone who’s brought most of their suffering on themselves through a series of generally shitty and frequently downright cruel actions with easily foreseeable consequences. If he got sick of being alone, he should’ve apologized to his peers for being a dick to... literally all of them and tried to make amends and strike up some sort of relationship. Or, if that didn’t work, go out! Meet new people! Try not to be as awful to them! Also, he’s a sect leader. If he couldn’t even maintain a positive relationship with other sect leaders, people who, let me remind you, he has to work with on a regular basis and several of whom are actually nice and friendly people, that is on him. If you are awful to people you will end up alone. And then JC decided to respond to learning that the people he was a dick to every time he saw them (and, in LWJ and NHS’s cases, caused the death of someone they cared about) wanted nothing to do with him... by whining about how lonely he was as if that wasn’t largely his fault. Like, he lost his family and that’s awful, but he could have had friends to help him through his grief, and it’s his own damn fault that he doesn’t.

WWX’s life was miserable. He had plenty of friends, yeah, but he spent years on the streets after his parents died brutal deaths; was raised in a family where he was treated like a servant and a scapegoat; lost everything in an event he was blamed for despite having nothing to do with the attack; had to sacrifice his incredibly powerful golden core (thereby losing his primary means of defending himself while on the run and drastically shortening his lifespan) to keep his brother from letting himself die; was thrown into a corpse pit for three months where he had to create an entirely new and experimental (and as such incredibly dangerous) form of cultivation and probably resort to cannibalism just to survive; had to fight a war almost immediately after escaping; spent a... good portion of time (not sure how long exactly because the MDZS timeline is more a suggestion than an actual coherent timeline) being treated alternately as a tame pet or a rabid animal and having to pretend everything was just fine while everyone tried to either control him or remove him and his brother very obviously got increasingly resentful of his skill and power; had to abandon his home, his family, and everything he had left of his old life to save a bunch of innocent people while everyone, including his brother, acted like he’d gone mad for not wanting to let them die horribly; had to go back to the corpse pit he spent three months in because it was the only place where they might be safe; accidentally killed his brother-in-law due to losing control after being ambushed on the way to a celebration for his nephew that he was invited to by people he trusted, almost certainly making him wonder on at least some level if that was why he was invited; lost two members of his new family who he clearly loved because of said accidental murdering; learned their deaths were for nothing and, when he retaliated against the planned attack that shouldn’t have happened because that’s what WQ and WN gave their lives to prevent, saw his beloved sister die to save him; and, after all that, lost the rest of his new family to a siege on a civilian population led by his brother. And after all that, his response was... to destroy the incredibly dangerous weapon he’d made because he didn’t trust the sects to not destroy each other and themselves with it and kill himself rather than risk losing control again and hurting anyone else. In the novel too; I don’t doubt for a second that WWX planned on dying in that siege, even if he didn’t expect destroying the seal to do it.

Take a look at that paragraph. All those things that happened to WWX. And in the end, he was kind. He was so, so kind, and remains kind even after thirteen years of being dead. He would have been well within his rights to go all “Then let me be evil” on the sects, but every time he attacked them they struck first, and most of the serious damage he did happened as a direct result of losing control of his experimental and mostly unknown new cultivation, which is a real risk even with spiritual cultivation; NMJ probably would have happily killed everyone in Qinghe if the qi deviation hadn’t gotten to him first, given how easy it was for him to attack even his beloved little brother. Everything bad that happened to JC is on that list, pretty much. Everything that JC suffered WWX did too, with some variations in the details (and of course dead versus alone for the same period of time). JC had the advantage of a sect at his back and a high rank by virtue of his birth, while WWX’s position was entirely reliant on JFM and, later, JC. And yet some people insist that WWX’s trauma doesn’t excuse his actions but JC’s somehow does. Now, some people argue it’s different because WWX was a mass murderer. Yeah, well, JC’s a fucking serial killer, and he doesn’t have the excuse of losing control due to using resentful energy to cultivate and being attacked by everyone he’d ever known and trusted.

...I’ve kind of lost track of where I’m going with this. Short version: I very strongly disagree with anyone who insists WWX’s trauma doesn’t excuse his actions while bending over backwards to argue that JC’s trauma excuses his.

[scottymcgeesterwrites]

Final Fantasy II Review

Year: 1988

Original Platform: Famicom

Also Available on: GameBoy Advance (Final Fantasy I &II: Dawn of Souls), PlayStation One (Final Fantasy Origins), PSP (Anniversary Edition), Android, iOS. Wii/3DS/Wii U Virtual Consoles and WonderSwan Color releases are only in Japan.

Version I Played: PSP

Synopsis:

Firion, Maria, Guy and Leon are recent orphans from Emperor Palamecia’s attack on the city of Fynn. They are picked up by Minwu, an agent of the rebellion against the Emperor led by Princess Hilda. The orphans wish to join the fight against the Emperor, and so Minwu helps them on missions to foil the Emperor’s plans.

Background:

So, here's where the history of Final Fantasy games gets a little choppy. Final Fantasy II was not initially released in the US, nor outside Japan for that matter. The reason was because the US localization was taking too long and the Super Nintendo was already being developed and on the verge of released. The same thing happened with Final Fantasy III. The US localization for both games were trashed in favor of working on Final Fantasy IV. Square released Final Fantasy IV as Final Fantasy II for Western audiences, so they wouldn't get confused. Final Fantasy V was also unreleased outside of Japan for other reasons, and so Final Fantasy VI became known to Western audiences as Final Fantasy III.

Then when Final Fantasy VII came around they said "Fuck it" and left it numbered like that for Western audiences too.

The real Final Fantasy II wasn't released to Western audiences until 2003 with Final Fantasy Origins for the Playstation One. The real Final Fantasy III wasn't released to Western audiences until the 2006 remake for the Nintendo DS. Final Fantasy V was first released outside Japan as part of the collection in Final Fantasy Anthology for Playstation One in 1999.

Gameplay:

Final Fantasy II is the black sheep of the series. Even though it sold well on its first release, it’s the lowest selling Final Fantasy game to date. This is in part to the gameplay, which sounds great on paper but doesn’t work out well in execution.

Instead of conventional leveling up - meaning you gain experience points (XP) and your stats rise - you raise your skills and stats based on how often you use them. Everybody has the ability to use any weapon or magic spell. But the more you use one certain weapon or certain spell, the more you level it up. For example, I could have Firion use a sword. The more often I make him use a sword, the greater his skill with a sword. If I give him an axe, he will start with a Level 1 axe ability, and not deal as much damage as he would with a sword.

The problems arise in matters of defense and HP. By that logic, the more you get hit, the more your HP grows. This is pretty infuriating because if you want to grind to raise your HP, you fall in danger of dying. To raise defense, you have to equip a shield and get hit. It also really sucks late in the game if you neglect one particular stat that becomes important.

By the time I reached the third act of this game, I was frankly fed up. I just had the sole purpose in mind of finishing the game. The frequent random encounters near the end infuriated me. Not that they were hard, but they used up my resources and I really wanted to end it once and for all.

 However, the game has a nice feature where you can learn key terms and words when talking with people. This helps you remember what to do and where to go next. That part was cool.

Graphics:

Very little had changed between the first and second Final Fantasy games, as you can see.

The same is true for the PSP Anniversary Edition.

The graphics are exactly the same as that of Final Fantasy PSP Anniversary Edition. As such, they feel homogeneous and somewhat uninspired. Once again, they rip the opening FMV sequence from the Playstation One version. Why do they do that? Just give a little extra effort to make it unique. Just a little.

Story:

Final Fantasy II was the first story-driven RPG for the series. It introduced a lot of the trademark elements that the series is known for, like Cid and Chocobos, and so it’s a shame that it wasn't memorable.

Critics bash the story because they compare it to Star Wars from 1977. The plot is similar in that there is a rebellion against an empire and a princess who gets imprisoned inside the empire’s secret weapon of mass destruction. The Emperor even has a right-hand man clad head to toe in armor with a SECRET IDENTITY. While there is no Death Star in Final Fantasy II, there is a massive airship that the Emperor builds to crush the rebellion - the Dreadnought - and Princess Hilda, just like Leia, is taken prisoner there.

But in my opinion, plot parallels should really be the least of your worries. I think the story is a tad bit underrated. Just a tad. Well, the main characters are bland. Firion is a cool name. Other than that, there's nothing to say about them. They are less fleshed out than the secondary characters, which is ironic. I was more interested in any other character than the main cast. Guy (or Gus in some versions) is a stereotypical friendly giant, only saying short phrases or one-word answers. Firion and Maria don't really do much except want to fight for the rebellion. Leon has a story arc that's too quick and convenient.

The secondary characters that you run into are much more interesting – Josef, Minwu, Gordon, Ricard, Leila and Scott. They come and go during certain events and they all have even the slightest ounce of backstory more than the main characters.

The story tapers off after you rescue Princess Hilda. While I won’t spoil anything (though I doubt you’d care but still), there are stupid moments when the Emperor could have easily crushed the rebellion but instead chose a different route. Ultima, the ultimate spell, becomes an important plot device that the heroes seek – and yet it doesn’t end up being effective for the final battle nor is it mentioned again in the story. Overall, Final Fantasy II appears to be the Final Fantasy game with the most plotholes. The strongest part of the story lies in its secondary characters. The game left me wanting more of them instead of playing a group of stereotypical orphans without any personality.

Even though Final Fantasy II has an actual storyline, its predecessor feels much more original despite the fact that it’s more like a series of episodic events. Whether Star Wars was an intentional inspiration or not, it makes sense as a first jab at creating a storyline. It’s simple and tropey.

Music:

Despite Final Fantasy II lurking in the shadows for years, it has good music. The Rebel Army theme is great, especially when you hear it orchestrated in Final Fantasy medleys and the Distant Worlds concert. The final battle with the Emperor has the first true final battle music in the series, and it’s awesome. You can tell Uematsu had fun expanding his repertoire.

Like before, the PSP version adds more tracks and gives a more orchestrated feel.

Notable Theme:

As the chocobos debuted in this game, so did their theme song, which was quite repetitive here. In later games, Uematsu added another stanza of music.

Verdict:

Most likely the worst of the Final Fantasy games. You’re really not missing much if you never play it. It strikes a jarring note in both gameplay and story, like when you play the piano and keep hitting the wrong key.

The PSP version is probably slightly more interesting. Still, I wish they buffed up the story somehow. Why not remake the entire game? There is potential with the characters. Keep your basic elements but just make the story, you know, not boring and stupid.  

Direct Sequel?

Yes. Final Fantasy I & II: Dawn of Souls introduced a second part to the story called Soul of Rebirth. The PSP version also has it. It's dumb. I tried it and for whatever reason it’s very difficult right away and so I lost interest entirely.

[fleetwoodmoth]

Killing Time

Chapter 8 of Just Business

I have had so much support on this series, I am so eternally grateful and happy that yall like my indulgent little fantasy! Thank you!

The sound of metal clanking loudly against itself rang out into the alleyway behind El Coyote Cojo, Jackie lifting the rolling door up until it stopped at the top, revealing what amounted to a multipurpose garage. Vesper watched as he rolled his motorcycle in, arms folded over one another to stave off the late night chill. It smelt like motor oil and incense, and something that was distinctly Jackie, leather and spice. Despite it being an out of the way hiding hole, it felt comfortable just because of that.

“Well, this is it,” he said motioning her inside behind him.

She shuffled in, pulling the door down behind her to keep out the chill of the night, he dug through a toolbox before turning back to her, brandishing a key.

“This place is safe, no one fucks with El Coyote, so if you’re ever in danger, or don’t feel safe, come here,” he held it out to her.

She blinked a few times, taken aback by the offer, he hadn’t told her why they were there, just that he wanted to show her something.

“Are you sure, Jackie? I don’t want to intrude-” he laughed, the sound startling her slightly as he took her hand and placed the key in it “You can’t intrude if I want you here,” he said softly, squeezing her hand as he pulled her in closer.

“I can’t be there all the time, not that you can’t handle shit yourself, it’s just…” he paused, looking away for a moment before placing a hand on her cheek “Consider this a favor, for me, for my peace of mind,” he said. She met his gaze, the two of them standing in silence for a long minute before Vesper broke the silence.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“Ain’t gotta thank me jaina, I just want… I need to keep you safe,” he said.

She smiled, even despite the sudden prickle of tears at the edges of her eyes, she dropped her head, hair covering her face as she tried to quickly wipe them away.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong?” Jackie asked, his voice suddenly worried, hands coming to rest on her shoulders.

“No! Oh God no, sorry, sorry,” Vesper said, lifting her head again and beaming up at him “I’ve just never had anyone think of me like this,” she said, holding the key against her chest as she leaned in against him “thank you baby,” she said softly. Jackie closed the gap between the two of them, pressing his lips to hers, his hands having fallen to her waist to pull her in even closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, swaying slightly as she kissed him back, eyes fluttering shut as she soaked in the feeling of his warmth against her. She had never seen herself as “girlfriend material”, she had been relegated by most people as a fuck buddy, arm candy, someone to have fun with but when the going got tough, well. She pushed that thought down, the feeling of being unwanted along with it. She felt plenty wanted now, and despite her pension for refusing to need anyone but herself, she allowed herself to relish it.

“What now?” Vesper asked, breaking the kiss only barely, their foreheads pressed together naturally.

“Well,” Jackie said, and she could hear the smile in his voice, “Rath said to lay low until they have the info.”

“Mmm,” Vesper hummed in agreement.

He kissed her again, a hand going to cup her cheek, his other hand slipping beneath her shirt, his warm hands against her skin raising goosebumps across her arms. She closed her eyes, leaning into his warmth, his strength, she hadn’t allowed herself to fall prey to the stress of being targeted, and now she realized how much it had been eating at her, now that they were safe together. Jackie’s kisses became more insistent, and Vesper matched him, her arms tightening around the back of his neck, pressing her body against his fully. She felt him tug at the edge of her pants, asking silently for permission before working at the buttons, Vesper batting his hands away to make quicker work, her lips finding his cheek, then his jaw, sharp teeth grazing his skin in a way that made him rumble out a long half sigh.

He pushed against her, causing her to back up into his bike, resting on it as he pulled her pants off of her hips, Vesper catching her breath as he kissed hickies onto her throat. He lowered himself to his knees, pulling her hips forward on the motorcycle seat, kissing the inside of her thighs as she ran her fingernails against his scalp, heat rushing to her cheeks as she watched him. He bit down gently, sucking as the soft sensitive skin on her inner thigh, and she knew there’d be a mark there in the morning. He made his way up, painstakingly slow, the action causing her to let out a whine, the sound making Jackie laugh against her skin, the feeling of his warm breath so close to where she needed him making her even more needy, her fingers curling into a fist in his hair.

Finally he licked a stripe up over her entrance, the action causing her to let out a startled moan. Again he laughed, pulling back ever so slightly to look up at her, and the sight of him on his knees between her legs spurred her on, tugging at his hair, encouraging him further, eliciting a growl from him before he dove back in. He spread her lips with his thick fingers, pressing his tongue against her clit with earnest desire before pulling the sensitive nub between his lips. She felt herself jolt, her other hand going to grip the motorcycle seat for stability as she widened her legs for him, her breath catching in her throat as she gasped his name. One of his arms wrapped around her thigh, keeping her in place as he went to work on driving her crazy with his mouth, lavishing her clit in attention before pressing his tongue into her. She felt herself clench down, letting out a stuttered ‘oh’ sound as she rode each wave of pleasure that hit her. He hummed against her core, teasing her as she tried to press her hips forward more, tried to find more friction, her hand in his hair now vice grip. He drew out each lick, so slow she was sure he was torturing her, before she felt his fingers messaging her entrance, pressing only the tip of his pointer finger inside of her which caused her hips to jerk forward. He laughed against her clit, the feeling enough to make her cry out his name. He finally sunk two fingers inside of her cunt, the stretch was divine, and she felt herself clench down without even trying. He held her down with his free hand while he indulged in her, unbothered by her squirming around him as he fingered her, the rhythm he set was almost experimental, like he was testing her, exploring her. She felt her core tightening as she began to climb the rising wave of an orgasm.

“Fuck Jackie, please,” she whined.

“Mierda, I need-- Fuck,” Jackie pulled back all at once, the action causing Vesper to let out a needy whine, feeling empty all of a sudden as he stood.

He kissed her again, hard, his tongue pressing against hers as she tasted herself on his lips. He nearly picked her up off of the bike, barely allowing her to find her footing before settling her on a nearby desk, shoving all the odds and ends to the side as he did so. She pulled him against her again, this time working at his belt, his own large hands coming to help her, the urgency in his actions matched only by the intensity of his lips against her throat.

He pulled her hips forward again, but this time it was more insistent, more needy as he curled over her, pulling her legs up around his hips as he pressed his forehead to hers. She felt the head of his cock against her entrance and could see the look of self restraint on his face as he held himself back for just a moment longer.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said.

Vesper met his eye, her heart stuttering at the utter affection she saw there, “So are you,” she whispered back.

It was only a moment’s pause, but she felt like they had stayed like that forever, just the sound of their combined heavy breathing to fill the air, before finally Jackie pressed his hips forward, filling her in one quick motion, causing her to shudder with pleasure and satisfaction. She leaned back against the wall, arms resting on Jackie’s shoulders as he started to fuck into her, his hands coming to her hips to steady her as the desk squeaked beneath them.

“Jackie,” Vesper whined, toes curling as he slowly picked up his pace, the moans and cries becoming more frequent with each thrust.

She felt her cunt squeeze around him, so sensually tight and wet, she felt the build from before return, this time with a vengeance. She slid herself forward, matching his pace as his hips snapped against hers, more urgent with each swift motion. She took the opportunity to glance up at Jackie’s face, only to realize he was watching her with the same amount of adoration he had before. They held each other’s gaze as he fucked her, releasing her hips so that he could rub at her clit, the action causing her to curse under her breath, the other coming to the side of her neck, gently but firmly keeping her eyes on him. She could feel herself cresting, her body going rigid as she barely stuttered out a warning.

“Cum for me jaina,” he said, still watching her intensely as she felt pleasure rush through her system.

Her breath caught in her throat, half of his name catching with it as she finally came, she felt his own hips stutter as he fucked her through it, a string of Spanish leaving his mouth as he found his end. The two of them rode out their bliss together, basking in the afterglow as they caught their breath, the hum of the lights and sound of distant sirens coming back into focus as they both came down. After a moment, Jackie pulled back enough to press kisses against her face and throat, Vesper letting out a hoarse laugh as she wrapped her arms around him fully again as Jackie cupped her face.

“How’s that for killing time?”

[elysianswoo]

Reach For The Calm | Part II

Genre: friends to lovers!au | fluff | angst

Member: Mark x Reader

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 2 600

Part 1

The day had gone by exactly how Mark wanted it. Being able to spend the day by your side wasn’t anything new, but it was something the birthday boy treasured. However, you wouldn’t let him spend the entire day glued to your side. Once the sun went down, you dragged him along to the apartment complex of your friend Jaemin. At the rooftop of his apartment, you and 6 other guys had planned a surprising night full of laughter and cake. Even though Mark wanted to spend the night by your side, he couldn’t say he was disappointed about having all of his closest friends at one place. Reaching the rooftop, you both went your separate ways to greet the people there. You stayed by Yeri's and Joy's side, knowing Mark was doing fine by the giggles emitted from his tight-knit group of friends.  

“So mark, are you gonna tell her soon?” Jeno asked, nudging Marks arm to gain his attention. It also gained the attention of the rest of the group, who also wanted an answer to Jeno’s question. “tell who what?” Mark played dumb, having obviously understood what the boy meant. This received an eye roll from Renjun “dude, don’t act like you don’t know. Y/n, are you gonna tell her how you feel soon?” Mark was clearly feeling uncomfortable at the sudden interrogation, and the boys knew that when he tried changing the subject, however, to no avail. “if you’re not going to own up to your feelings, you should stop looking at her like a sad puppy every other second” Mark gave the boys a confused look “I don’t?? Oh, shit I do” The birthday boy gave them all a wide-eyed panicked look, only gaining chuckles in return.  

“Just confess dude, it’s not that hard” Donghyuck remarked, with a shrug of his shoulders. That seemed to be the end of the conversation as Jaemin suddenly started talking about a new game he saw at the store. But Mark couldn’t seem to bring himself back to the conversation, having Donghyuck’s comment ringing in the back of his head. Mark knew it wasn’t as easy to confess your feelings to your best friend as Donghyuck made it out to be, but there was a little voice in his head saying but what if it is.  

The night dragged on until the sun was about to retouch the horizon. Most of the guests had left by now, taking the soft giggles and jokes with them. It was only you, Mark, Jaemin and Jeno left on the rooftop. The four of you stayed laying on your backs looking up at the sky that’s now turning a soft blue. “well we're gonna head to bed now guys, you can stay for as long as you'd like though, y/n has a spare key” and with that the night had left only you and Mark on its way out.  

“Hey Mark” you say, still staring up at the sky, the boy lets out a hum telling you that he’s listening. “Are you okay? You’re so quiet, kind of distant” you question him. This makes Mark sit up, still having his eyes plastered on the sky he takes a moment before answering “I’m fine y/n, don’t worry” he looks back at you smiling. But that answer, and that smile, only made you worry more.  

You can’t say you worried for no reason, had it been three weeks since Mark's birthday and you were positive that the boy was avoiding you. Neglecting your movie nights or lunch plans, it seemed like he was spending most of his time at Jaemins place. Not that you minded that, you could do without your movie nights, but once he started answering your text with brief, dry responses, as well as rejecting your every attempt at meeting up with him, you could tell that something wasn’t right. Having barely seen him for three weeks you started to wonder if you had done something to aggravate the boy. But at last you decided to give him some space.

Mark, the poor boy had basically been living with Jaemin for the past three weeks, he was nothing less of a mess. And the host had had enough of it. Jaemin didn’t mind Mark staying over at his place, as a matter of fact he was happy about the company the other boy provided. But he could begin to sense the downfall of his friend’s mood and the moping had to stop.  

“Mark, for how long are you planning on avoiding y/n" Jaemin said while turning off the TV resulting in a whine from the older boy. “I don’t know what you mean, I’m not avoiding her” mark says. “Mark for fucks sake, what are you doing this for? If you keep going at it, you’re gonna lose her.” Jaemin knew the words he was letting out were harsh, but the other boy had to hear it. However, he wasn’t expecting Mark to chuckle at his comment.  

“But what if I lose her anyways huh? What if I let my feelings slip? What if she rejects the fuck out of me? What if she never wants to see me again? What would I do then?” Marks voice comes out more like a whisper at the end and Jaemin gives the boy an exhausted look, hating to see his best friend in this condition.  

“I’m sorry dude, but are you dumb? Are you actually dumb?” this time Jaemin lets out a laugh, much to Mark’s surprise. Before Mark can defend himself, Jaemin’s at it again. “no not dumb actually, more like blind. Bro you need glasses” “excuse me but-“ mark interferes “no Mark shut up, listen, in what world does it look like y/n would ever leave you? We can all see the way she looks at you, so why can’t you?” Jaemin pushes his hair back with an exaggerated sigh as he looks over at the older boy who seems to have taken a deep interest in the seams of the blanket on his lap.

“She looks at me like a friend” he whispers. “Mark, she doesn’t. She looks at you like you hold the key to the entire universe, like you have the answer to life. She looks at you with her eyes brimming with love, and don’t even get me started on the way she smiles whenever we even mention your name” when Mark finally looks up from his lap his face is covered in a red hue, and Jaemin can’t decide if it’s the result of embarrassment or unshed tears. “get your head out of your ass mark and go get your girl.”

After the conversation, Mark was basically kicked out of Jaemin’s place. The boy asked if he needed a ride home but Mark opted for the walk since he needed some time to clear his head. It’s gonna be okay mark, he thought to himself on the way home. The weather seemed to share his gloomy mood, as the sky was covered in grey clouds, he could tell it was going to rain soon. What Mark didn’t see coming was the way the sky lit up with sharp lights every other minute, followed by a loud bang. He rushed home in an attempt to avoid the rain, but the boy was still a soaking mess once he reached his front door.  

There was just one problem, it wasn’t his door. Rather he was standing at the door of the girl he was trying his best to avoid, and without even knowing it he rang the doorbell. And then there you stood, a surprised look on your face, that quickly morphed worry for the soaking boy at your door step. “Mark, what are you doing out there, god, come inside.” You ushered him in, dragging him to the bathroom, you told him to take a quick shower while you grabbed him some clothes. Mark had a whole lot of clothes spread around your room, so finding him some dry clothes wasn’t that hard. “Mark, I placed the clothes on the other side, come to the living room when you’re ready ok?”  

You were absorbed in the ending of the movie you had put on. However, your attention was quickly diverted to the now dry boy when you felt the couch dip. “here, I’ll put on something else” Mark was quick to stop you though, grabbing your hand before it reached the remote “no it’s fine, you can finish the movie” then let go of your hand after the short comment, but you chose to not listen to him. Grabbing the remote you put on one of the shows you always watched when the weather was bad earning you a chuckle from the boy “always so stubborn” to which you gave a glare. It seemed like things were back to normal, and none of you mentioned the three weeks without contact.

A few episodes and two popcorn bags later, the weather didn’t seem to get any better. In fact, it seemed to have gotten worse with time. The sky lit up more often and the bangs had gotten closer, you could also hear the wind hitting the windows frequently. You had never been a fan of weather like this, when some people found comfort in the sound of rain hitting the ground and the atoms in the sky reacting to each other, you were just filled with anxiety waiting for the worst to happen. You never knew where this fear originated having never experienced anything bad during a storm. Actually, it was always the opposite. Mark learned about your fear of storms at a young age, and he always made it his mission to distract you to the fullest, would it be with cuddles or a movie didn’t matter. So maybe that’s why he suddenly showed up at your door after 3 weeks of minimal contact.  

The eerie atmosphere the storm brought seemed only to get worse, because now in the middle of an episode the power chose to go out, leaving you and Mark in complete darkness. Anything worse than a storm, was a storm in the dark. “Hey y/n, you okay? I’m right here okay, don’t be afraid” mark said reaching out for your hand he gripped it tightly giving it a light squeeze. “can you wait here for a second? Put your phone flashlight on okay? I’m just gonna go get some candles” you did as instructed while Mark went to look for the candles you always had locked away somewhere. He returned with a handful, as well as a lighter. You never knew if you preferred the darkness or a room filled with tiny flames, but at last you didn’t complain about it.  

“You don't seem as afraid of storms anymore?” Mark questioned. “oh no I am, but lately I guess there’s other things that are more frightening" you could feel Mark’s eyes on you, but you did your best at avoiding eye contact. “like what” he whispered making you suck in a breath.  

You don’t know for how long you held it in, finally breathing out once you felt Mark’s hand on your cheek, wiping away some of the tears that had broken free.  

“please talk to me, tell me what’s wrong” he let out in the softest voice, making your heart a beating mess, but ignoring your heart for a second you could feel how mad you actually were at the boy that was now acting like an oblivious fool.  

“shouldn’t you know Mark?” you asked, abruptly standing up from the couch. You made eye contact with him and you could see that he was surprised by your outburst, but he quickly looked down in guilt.  

“okay fine, you wanna act like that? I’ll tell you what’s wrong Mark. What’s wrong is how you left me in the complete darkness for three fucking weeks. What’s wrong is- is how I didn’t know what was going on with you, or if I did something wrong. Like did I- did I do something to hurt you Mark? Did you get bored of me or something?”  

By the end of your rant you could feel your face burning up and tears streaming down in a rush. “and you know what’s really fucking wrong right now? It’s how you just came knocking on my door after three weeks acting like nothing had happen. Acting like you didn’t disappear like a ghost or some shit”  

You wiped away the tears from your face aggressively, letting out sniffles here and there. “I’m sorry y/n" Mark said weakly. Whatever you muttered, more to yourself but the boy heard it as clear as day.  

“no, it’s not whatever y/n, fuck I'm so sorry” the boy stood up, and started walking towards you. Stopping a step before you he reached out a hand to your arm “can I?” he asked with uncertainty dripping from every syllable. Giving him a nod, he was quick to pull you right into his chest, giving you déjà vu back to the hug shared in the kitchen, god that felt like an eternity ago.  

“I’m so sorry for being so selfish y/n, you could never do anything wrong, I could never get bored of you. I’m just so selfish, I’m selfish and a coward when it comes to my feelings, especially the ones for you” you broke away from the embrace, giving him a confused look “Mark what?”  

“listen y/n, I don’t think I could ever live without you, and after these past few weeks I frankly never want to find out. I’m just, I just love you a lot okay?” you were about to respond when he cut you off.  

“no not just that. Y/n I’m in love with you. And when I realised I chose to run away, I chose to be selfish, and you didn’t deserve that. I was just afraid of rejection, I guess. I was afraid of ruining our friendship, but I guess I did that anyways” Mark let out a bitter laugh, having not believed what he just said. Silence was the only thing filling the room, you stood there in shock at the information you’ve just been given. You didn’t know how to react or what to say so you just stood there, filling Mark up with more anxiety.  

“yeah, so you don’t need to reply or say anything back. I just felt like you deserved to know” with that Mark started pulling away, much to your dismay.  

“Mark are you actually dumb?” “okay, people keep asking me that today and it hurts” you let out a small breathy laugh.

“In what world would this ruin our friendship? Even if I didn’t feel the same way, I’m kinda hurt that you think this could break our friendship” you said. “wait what, what do you mean if you didn’t-"

“Mark” you cut him off giggling. “in what world would I reject you? I’m in love with you too, you absolute dumbass”  

The poor boy however, seemed to have stopped working, looking at you with a face full of confusion. “wait what” he repeated himself. With a roll of your eyes you grabbed at his shirt pulling him down to a point where your lips are almost touching “I’m in love with you too” you whisper, leaning in you plant a soft kiss to the boy’s lips. It took a second for Mark to process what was happening, but when he did his hand was quick to find the curve of your neck, while the other settled for softly tracing your jaw.  

Click  

“now would you look at that” Mark said pulling away. You gave out a small whine at the loss making his lips curve up at the corners. “The power’s back on” he whispered before pulling you in for a second kiss.

[cpeacephoto]

               Sadly, my posting of old photos may be coming to a point where it is less frequent. I’m running out of old photos to post, particularly those that aren’t nude portraits in some way. Which is nothing else seem really old hat to me but maybe that’s just because I’m not 22 and full of hormones anymore. I need to take more photos so I have more things to post and talk about.

              I’m also noticing the community on Tumblr seems to be teens half my age. Maybe I’m just an old fart who doesn’t know how to use Tumblr? I’ve got absolutely nothing against teens. On the teen aspect, I wonder sometimes if my ranting is relevant, or even responsible.

              When we’re teens we’re going through so much. So many emotions, hormones, new situations, pressures. I can see where some of what I post becomes attractive or relatable if not just something to feel emotions to. But for most teens, these things will pass. It will change and it will get better. So I worry I’m not helping. I’ll get into that more near the end.

              It leads me to these photos today. These photos were taken years ago on the Bonneville Salt Flats. I’m sure there’s a place on the flats with an actual parking lot and visitor center but that’s now how we did it. This was probably the second time shooting this model. I’ll have to tell the story of the first another time. She was a little younger than I was grew up traditionally LDS but she herself wasn’t particularly religious or conservative. She actually seemed to like the idea of tattoos, alternative music, just being yourself even if she personally didn’t have tattoos. She was a HUGE lover of animals. Would end up one day a hedgehog breeder I think.

              On this particular day she took her dog with her and together in her old BMW she picked me up and we went down the highway. The highway at the flats is basically a straight line and no one is driving the speed limit. Lots of people whizzing by at 100+ miles per hour. Being the flats, there’s also a huge amount of wind. We drive for what must have been an hour and talked, always looking at her gas gauge as that limited what we could do. I remember at one point some of the rubber holding on the windshield of that old BMW caught the wind and just flung off the car. Made me think of being in a rocket ship and having a panel fly off.

              When we finally decided to take photos we just pulled over and walked out to the flats. It was vast, flat, and windy.

              To me, these are lonely photos. And I post them today because of it. The girl in the photos was someone I had several deep conversations with. And in many ways I think had I allowed myself to feel joy, I could have been friends with. It may be arrogant to think so, but maybe even something more. She was someone who saw my flaws and kept trying to tell me that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. And at some point in life because I couldn’t let myself have friends, let alone find love, and kept trying to tell myself I couldn’t form relationships with models or it was creepy… at some point I’d end up locking her out of my life. Suddenly, dramatically, and quietly.

              This last month has been one hell of a roller coaster ride emotionally. There have been developments that happened with my old friend. The kinds of things where you don’t necessarily go looking and somehow it just pops up. The kinds of things where suddenly a lot of things just sort of happen. Where other things just don’t happen. It’s been a month of spiraling out on anxiety and walking around like Jack Skellington going, “What does it mean? What does it mean?”. A month of trying to distract myself, feel emotionally distant, make mistakes, learn something about myself, respond to all the stress and anxiety differently. A month of things not being as bad as I thought and things not going as horribly as I thought. And on the rare occasion getting to pull out my telescope to see how my old friend is on their boat and just feel, happy or complete again for a minute. It’s been a long and strange month.

              Part of that month includes several people telling me something that I’m sure I’ve been told before by someone, but for some reason resonates now. It’s the notion that really nothing that’s happened is bad, or wrong. It doesn’t mean I’m a monster, that I’m a fuck up, or that my old friend even hates me. They probably just, don’t think of me because life has moved on for them. More to the point I’ve been told several times this month that the issue, not problem but issue, in my life is pain. Particularly that I keep punishing myself. And doing so to such an impossible and undeserving standard. As if all the punishment somehow makes everything that happened and all the time lost okay. As if should I ever not punish, then none of it would matter anymore. That if I just punish myself hard enough or long enough, that maybe life will go back to the way it was which it never will, but also shouldn’t necessarily and that’s okay. That punishment and pain have become an identity, and I’ve not allowed myself to know anything else.

              It makes me think of these photos. Because there’s been so many wonderful people along the way the last 16 years that I’ve locked out and pushed out. People I felt I couldn’t, or shouldn’t, associate with beyond a very strict point. I’ve missed out on so much. I’m at a point in my life where I don’t want to miss out on those things anymore. And I don’t want to live in punishment and pain. The time lost, is lost. But I still have the rest of my life. That perhaps there is something to be said for time served and enough is enough.

              In some capacity, even if it’s just chatting online on occasion, I’d like to move on with my old friend. Like I’ve said before, I’ve always had this weird feeling my path eventually leads me back to them. And without the worry of school, social groups, parents, the impending doom of “get life right or live in a van down by the river” now, they and I have our whole lives to get to know each other. And be who we need to be to each other.

              But even if it is just conversations online on occasion, which is progress I’m hoping comes from this month, or even if it’s nothing at all. I really want to enjoy life again with someone. I want someone to not lock out anymore.

              And I think that’s the lesson. “let it go” doesn’t mean forget about it, or it doesn’t matter. It means that at some point the only person punishing you, judging you, hurting you… is you. And the only way it’ll ever get better is if you forgive yourself and allow yourself to be happy again. Something some of the events of this month, be they good or bad, has shown me. It’s okay. SWAT isn’t about to bust down my door. It’s okay to feel something.

                Came across a podcast episode today that talked a little about this idea of Idiot compassion vs Wise compassion. It’s an interesting concept. One of those things that when you stop to think about it feels like you’ve always known about but just never really had defined before. That “duh” moment for me I guess.

                For most of us, the compassion we’ll see most often is going to be Idiot compassion. We’ll even be the dealers of it from time to time. We’ll see it mostly from our friends and our family when we’re not feeling our best.

              In Idiot compassion it’s when someone gives compassion for their own benefit. Because it makes them feel better. Because they personally don’t want to see this person suffering, or because if the suffering heed their advice they somehow gain. Such is of our friend stops being mopey we can finally go to the movies. It’s when they just want to make someone feel better, and so they don’t necessarily tell the suffering the truth.

              When we see someone we care about in a problem and we feel compelled to say something it is probably idiot compassion. Something done that probably isn’t going to really help the other person anyways. It is probably something nice for the sake of being nice. And it risks being something that may actually hurt or further the situation the suffering are in. This kind of compassion typically doesn’t take into context, see, or even care about the whole situation from an objective view.

              Your friends and family will likely give idiot compassion. As Lori Gottlieb says you may hear statements for example about a breakup similar to “He’s a jerk”, “you dodged a bullet”, “all men suck”, “never talk to an ex”. These people will commonly tell you things like you should date or sleep around to get over someone, that you just need to get over it, that’s it’s all in your head, that you should break up with someone because you had a fight, that you should marry this person because they are “perfect” or “perfect for you”. Such statements don’t really help you over time. They may feel good in the moment, but you may end up ultimately feeling unfulfilled about your “perfect” decisions, or stressed out anxious that you’re not doing as well as they said you should be or would be, or worst of all just back where you started.

              Wise compassion on the other hand might look at that same break up differently. In Lori’s case she talk about how the source of her struggle wasn’t ultimately that this guy was a jerk and her heart was broken. It was about how she thought she had her life planned out. She was getting married, doing all the right things, had a career, everything was planned out. She did everything right. And then all of a sudden, the plan wasn’t there anymore. There was no backup plan, she didn’t do anything wrong necessarily, and she was alone. The floor fell from underneath her.

              As such wise compassion first had to dive into why she was truly struggling in the first place. Maybe he wasn’t the right guy for her. Sure. At the same time, maybe the problem is she was doing everything for the wrong reasons? Maybe she wasn’t really getting the fulfillment she truly needed? Maybe she was surrounding herself with the wrong people, like “yes men”. Maybe she was depending too much on others, on ideals, on this plan, then really being honest with herself on her needs? You can have your dream job, be successful, and still not find it fulfilling if you’re not being honest with yourself.

              Wise compassion by far is harder to find, but oh so much more valuable. We often feel and maybe are ill-equipped to dispense it. It may not necessarily flatter us or the person being given to. But it’s the truth given in a compassionate way.

              In Wise compassion, the compassion we give is more skillful and meaningful. Its intent is not to say something for the sake of something, or to simply end someone’s suffering so we don’t have to watch it. The intent is to help bring release from suffering so they honestly feel better. In this compassion it may be necessary to shine a mirror upon the sufferer to show them something they may not want to see or otherwise didn’t see before.

              It is an interesting thought experiment to me because I’ve been thinking about a similar thing for a while not. There’s a lot of nice people in this world. And there’s a time and a place for that. There’s nothing wrong with nice people. But people who simply nice people, aren’t always meaningful people. They aren’t always honest people. Just because someone is nice, doesn’t mean you’re going to be the best of friends that they really care about you, that you should sleep with them, date them, or marry them. It doesn’t mean you should be investing your time, energy, life, heart and soul into them.

              They aren’t bad people, they’re just nice people. And there’s a lot of nice people who will likely be nice for a while. But ultimately, aren’t you kind of people.

“~Write your soul down word for word. See who’s your friend. And who is kind.~ Matchbox Twenty - You Won’t be mine”

              In my life I’ve met a lot of nice people. And someone of them I’ve tried to hold onto longer than I should have, some I’ve lost myself in just to have someone who was nice around. There’s some who I pursued relationships with that ultimately didn’t work out because, they were just nice.Or because I didn’t truly allow myself to take the risk of actually feeling happy and connection again.

              There have been very few people in life who I’ve found had wise compassion. People who were truly honest, in a compassionate way. Who spoke my language, who I cared about.

              Like so many of these posts, it makes me think of my old friend. In part, because it always seemed like they could always find nice people. There was always an unlimited supply of nice people to surround them. To get lost in. How can you deny the voice of the crowd? They can’t all be wrong right? And it’s so much nicer over there what they have to say. But the voices of yes men and nice people, of Idiot compassion, isn’t always helpful. It isn’t necessarily fulfilling in the long run.

              I’ve been known to give people Idiot compassion like everyone else. But when it came to my old friend, I always tried to be honest. Even if it wasn’t fun to say, even if it wasn’t at my favor. I love their art. But no, I don’t love every piece. No, it’s not okay right now. Its okay it’s not okay right now. It’ll be okay someday. I love some of the things they do, and yes sometimes the problems we had were my fault. I own that. I’ve always felt like it was far more important to tell them the truth than to say something sweet just to be sweet.

              From my end, I’ve met a lot of nice people. I’ve had a lot of Idiot compassion happen to me. People who feel like emotional tourist. It’s part of why I feel for women. It’s so easy to have tourist show up because someone is feeling lonely, or horny, and the when the feeling passes in the morning or years down the road the tourist is gone only to be replaced by another. In my life I’ve had a lot of cliché’ platitudes lobbed at me. But I’ve had very few people be they stranger, tourist passing through, friends, family, or medical people, who were truly dispensers of Wise compassion. And there’s been so many times when I’ve needed it.

              I think that’s part of the reason why I respect and admire my old friend so much. They were probably the last person who I had that dispensed Wise compassion to me. And they were possible the only person I ever felt truly honored to try and reciprocate. I suppose in the end, after all this time I just hope beyond hope that I get that opportunity again someday.

              While I’m not really big into the holistic or the metaphysical, I do want to be a romantic and optimistic. There’s a thing called manifesting where you work towards your goals yes. You don’t lose focus and you don’t give up. But you try to stay positive, have happy thoughts, think about what you want and just hold on to that thought. I’m not really sure how much I buy into all of it. But I’ve got time. So I’ve been trying to manifest a conversation via happy thoughts and thinking about that conversation happening someday. Who knows, maybe it’ll all pay off sometime.

[thirteen-beaxhes]

Delayed - Chapter 1: All the Roads

Summary:  "All felt like they knew the others were far away, living ideal lives. They kept to their windows and phones for the ride, thinking about the others. They reminisced separately but prayed for the night to go by fast, to get to the places they needed to go. But the night hadn’t even begun yet." High school ended 6 years ago, and with it, so did the friendship between Andi, Buffy, Cyrus, Jonah, TJ and Amber. But now their flight is delayed and they are stuck in a hotel together for the night. Not much can change in one night, though. Can it?

AO3 LINK IN REBLOG

~~~~~~~

“This sucks,” Buffy groaned down to phone to Marty, who laughed pleasantly in amusement.

“It’s okay Buffy, just a flight delay. It’ll let up,” he said reassuringly.

“No, the flight got cancelled! I have to stay overnight in this hotel they are gonna put up all the people in some hotel,” Buffy said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ll only be able to reach by tomorrow afternoon.”

“That’s okay, Buffy. I’m sure if you call up the company, they will be willing to understand.”

“I guess. It’s just so inconvenient.”

“True. But hey, maybe you’ll get some sleep at this hotel now!” Marty said, trying to get Buffy to lighten up. She appreciated his efforts, letting a small smile form on her face.

“I love you, Marty. The bus is gonna reach in some time,” Buffy said.

“I love you too, Buffy. Get some rest, okay?” Marty said, before Buffy ended the call. She looked around her at the other passengers doomed to her fate. Nothing better than being stuck in a situation with people you don’t know, and will never see again. She sighed and opened her phone, checking her social media. Scrolling through a bit, she landed on a picture of her and Marty from back in high school.

High school. Basketball, milkshakes, the Good Hair Crew. Andi and Cyrus. God, it had been so long. High school friends drift apart, but never had they thought back then that it would happen to them. But happen it did. Buffy sighed, scrolling past the picture, pushing away the memories. Dwelling did no good. Buffy was positive that if her friends saw her today, they wouldn’t recognise the person she had become. And a part of her knew she wouldn’t recognise them either. Shutting off her phone, Buffy leaned against the seat, looking out the window as the announcement for the arrival of the bus rang through the air.

At least the night would pass by quick.

*

Andi huffed as she threw down her duffel bag and sank into the shitty airport seat as she waited for more information about the transport to the hotel. She hadn’t had any intention of spending her night there, but cancelled flights called for desperate measures. She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, unable to use her phone because it decided it was a good time to conk off. She rummaged through the meagre collection of magazines on the stand next to the seats, and settled for a travel magazine. She opened it and began to read from a random page, wanting only to pass the time. Beads of sweat were already forming on the back of her neck. Despite the air conditioning being on full. Maybe a leather jacket was not the best choice.

Andi busied herself in reading about the ‘5 Restaurants You Have to Try in Prague’, turning the pages lazily, every movement betraying disinterest. At one point, she felt someone’s eyes on her. She turned around to see a guy around her age staring at her intently. With that look in his eyes. She knew that look. She had seen that look.

She despised that look.

“The fuck you looking at?” she asked, making a dismissing motion with her hand as she raised her eyebrows at the guy.  He just smirked at her.

“Can’t a guy just look?” he said in that voice that exuded faux innocence. It sounded like nails on chalkboards to Andi’s ears.

“Well then, can’t I just connect my fist to your nose?” she asked, smiling at him, her eyes fiery. That got him to look away grumbling, not before he whispered, “Bitch,” under his breath.

Andi rolled her eyes and looked back at the magazine, not before shooting looks at all the people who were staring at her after that incident. “What are you watching? Nothing to see here,” she said, moving her hands as if she were shooing them away.

She hadn’t always been like this, so snappy and angry. She had grown up a sweet, albeit dramatic girl. She had a weird but perfect life all the way till high school, with perfect friends and perfect relationships. But life is a bitch.

So you have to be a bitch to survive.

*

Cyrus: sorry mom looks like itll be tomorrow when i get a flight

Mom: oh dear okay cyrus. take care of yourself

Mom: see you tomorrow :)

Cyrus sighed and put his phone in his pocket, cursing the building headache that was making its presence very much known. He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to quell the pain. It was then he really regretted not carrying aspiring with him. Ignoring his headache, he looked around observing all the people sitting there waiting for the bus to the hotel. Diagonally across from him was a girl with brown hair just above shoulder length in a leather jacket, sunglasses perched on her head. She was flipping through a travel magazine rather disinterestedly. She had just told off a guy for staring at her, earning some passing comments about her being ‘rude’, but Cyrus was with the girl on this one. Though he didn’t need to voice his support, she had the situation very much under her control.

For some reason, as he caught glimpses of her, Cyrus couldn’t shake the thought that she looked incredibly familiar. He had the feeling that he knew this girl from somewhere, from a distant point in his life. But he couldn’t place her.

He shook his head slightly. It was probably just a passing similarity. He opened his phone for a distraction, noticing an Instagram notification.

cygoodman, see your post from 6 years ago today

Curious, he clicked on the notification and it took him all the way back to senior year of high school, to baby taters and milkshakes. To the Good Hair Crew.

To TJ.

The picture wasn’t spectacular, it was just a slightly shaky selfie taken by Andi, with him, Buffy, Jonah, Marty, Amber. And TJ. Cyrus’ boyfriend. Well, ‘then’ boyfriend.

The picture made Cyrus’ breath catch in his throat, a wistful smile spreading across his face. It had been over 4 years since he had spoken to anyone in that picture. 5 years since he and TJ had practically broken up. 6 years since they left high school.

6 years since they hammered the last nail into the coffin of their childhood friendship.

High school and childhood friendships don’t always last, they all knew that. It came to no one’s surprise when the messages and video calls grew less frequent, they met up less and less. And soon enough, that was it. There was no great fight, no blowout. It just faded with time. Still, Cyrus couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia for his friends. And for TJ.

TJ Kippen waltzing into his life in middle school was the single most unexpected thing to have ever happened to Cyrus. He came in a cold jock, but it didn’t take Cyrus long to see through the cracks to see the soft side, the kind and caring side. With TJ, Cyrus felt like he could do anything, which was saying a lot. With TJ, nothing was impossible. TJ burned bright like the sun, and for some reason, he saw the moon in Cyrus. But of course, high school ends, and so do high school sweethearts. In the end, it wasn’t an explosion that ended them. It was radio silence. But a part of Cyrus missed him deeply. It was probably why he hadn’t been in a serious relationship since TJ, settling only for the casual and running at the first sign of more.

Where could they all be? Probably further away than he could imagine.

*

“Okay I kinda wish now we didn’t meet up and decide to get this flight together,” TJ groaned as he started to gather his things from around the seat.

Amber scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Please, TJ. You’re grateful I’m here with you, or else you wouldn’t know anyone.”

TJ simply looked away, knowing very well that Amber was right. They were both heading back to Shadyside to meet their parents, and TJ was both dreading and looking forward to it. On one hand, it had been 5 years since he had last been in Shadyside, so it would be good to see the place where he had grown up. But on the other hand, he was dreading his mother pestering him about his non-existent love life. He had only been in 2 real relationships, and only one of them was even worth remembering. But remembering was painful. How fitting that the place he was going back to was also the place that held the memories of that relationship at every corner.

Cyrus Goodman was, and always had been, an enigma to TJ Kippen. He had swung into his life, almost literally, with his soft encouraging smiles and reassuring words, making TJ feel like maybe, letting his guard down wouldn’t mean the monsters would get to him faster. Cyrus had shaken him to the core in the best way possible, and God alone knows how someone as incredible as him could ever have fallen for someone like TJ. Their ups and downs had only made them stronger, but eventually, some downs are just too hard to come back from. College means drifting apart, it means leaving those people behind. It was practically mutual, but it didn’t mean that the memories didn’t come with that mixture of warmth and a sting.

“Yo, TJ,” Amber said, snapping her fingers in front of TJ’s face, bringing him out of his thoughts. “We’re leaving now.”

TJ nodded, taking his bags and following Amber out of the gate to the bus.

Probably better to leave the memories back in Shadyside so he could finally truly move on.

*

Emily: I miss you

Emily: maybe we made a mistake

Amber didn’t need to open her phone to read the messages again. They were burned into the back of her mind. With every step she took forward, the words inched closer to her heart. It didn’t help that just above those messages were the ones where Emily was telling her, ‘I just don’t feel the same way anymore,’ and, ‘It’s not you, it’s me’.

Bullshit. It was always her.

Amber couldn’t believe that Emily even had the balls to send her a message saying she missed her. After she had brutally ripped her heart out and stepped on it with her signature Converse sneakers. That had been a month ago, and it took everything in Amber to try and piece herself back together. That was also part of the reason she was content in returning to Shadyside for a while. She needed a break, and going home seemed the best option. She needed to find herself again. As dramatic as that sounded.

TJ, who was walking next to her, purposely bumped into her, forcing her to smack him upside the head. But she was glad he was there. She didn’t know if she could handle the memories of going home alone.

As she loaded her luggage into the bus, she let her mind wander to Emily. Was it a surprise she liked her? Not at all. She was exactly her type. Brown-haired, sweet and sunshiney personality, and proficient at crafts. There had been one person before her, but that was just a crush, and left at that.

Andi Mack.

Amber smiled to herself, thinking about Andi. Her bracelets, her dressing style, her smile, her laugh. While Amber had crushed on her from afar, that didn’t erase the fact that Andi had become a really good friend of hers. She had helped her change from being the stereotypical mean girl, to being a girl who was tough but let people in. Amber wanted nothing more than to pick up her phone and talk to Andi, reminisce on the old times. But that wasn’t going to happen. They had parted ways. Life had taken them on different paths.

Paths that would never intersect.

*

Jonah Beck got onto the bus, carefully clutching his guitar close to him. His suitcase had been stowed away, and he stared out of the window blankly. His hands were shaking slightly, the flight cancellation putting his on the edge. His breaths were growing incredibly unsteady, and he couldn’t let it get out of control. He pulled on the sleeves of his jacket, scratching himself in the process. Ultimately, opened his wallet and pulled out a highly crumpled picture from it, and smoothed it out, the sight of it immediately calming him down.

It was a Polaroid he, Cyrus, Andi and Buffy had taken the last day of high school. Even though he no longer spoke to them, and their paths had diverged long ago, that picture was one of the only things that truly made Jonah feel at ease. He looked at it so often that the creases were growing at an alarming rate. But he didn’t care. It went with him wherever he would go.

Loosely clutching onto the picture, he looked out the window as the bus moved, thinking about their whole friend group. Andi, Buffy, Cyrus, Amber, TJ, Marty. Where were they? What were they doing? He knew they would probably be far, far away, living their perfect lives. He smiled to himself, just wishing they all also missed high school, even if it was just for a second. He leaned against the window, closing his eyes, falling into a restless sleep until the bus reached the hotel.

*

As the evening progressed slowly into night, Andi, Buffy, Cyrus, TJ, Amber and Jonah sat in the bus to the hotel, all starting out thinking about their broken, messed up, confused lives. And all of their trains of thoughts leading to the same station. Them in high school.

All felt like they knew the others were far away, living ideal lives. They kept to their windows and phones for the ride, thinking about the others. They reminisced separately, but prayed for the night to go by fast, to get to the places they needed to go.

But the night hadn’t even begun yet.

~~~~~~~~

So I got this idea like a while ago, and I'm finally writing it! This is another multi-chapter, so let's do this kids.

HMU if you wanna be tagged in future updates! It may take time to update, with the au and stuff.

[blahehblah]

Us

I wrote a Calum thing, get your tissues ready!!! I hope you enjoy!!!

When Calum Hood fell in love, everyone saw it. It was probably the most incredible thing anyone had ever seen. He’d try to do everything for her, he’d want to spoil her, and make sure she knew that he loved her. 

He’d get the biggest smile, that was reserved only for her. It was soft, and his face would instantly relax upon looking at her face. He was happier, and he opened up to his friends more. His brown eyes were always warm and inviting, and between his friends he was the friendliest. 

Normally he was distrusting, and distant. He only ever talked to maybe six people in his life, and when he wasn’t in love he hardly ever talked to them. He always tended to bottle up his emotions, and when he eventually let them out, it was ugly. 

He would become angry. He would throw things. He would scream and yell until he felt better, which was rare for him afterwards. He hated feeling insignificant enough to where his anger got the better of him. 

When he adopted Duke, his little old man dog, his anger vanished. All his worries dissipated into thin air. The weight that he’d had on his shoulders after a long days work went away as soon as he saw his small companion. 

Now, just because Calum had Duke, does not mean that he was entirely happy. No, the aussie was entirely upset by the fact that he’d lost the love of his life. And it wasn’t his fault. He and his significant other were both separated by their dreams, and the need to follow them. 

This wouldn’t have been a problem, if their dreams hadn’t been the same dream. They’d both been musicians. Singing, and playing for people all around the world. His partner had gotten tired of the distance, and called it quits over the phone before he’d had a chance to say he was coming home. 

“Cal, I love you but I miss you.”

“I miss you too, so fucking much.” This was usually how the conversation would start. They’d always end with one being pulled away from the phone, or the both of them being too tired to keep the conversation going. 

“I can’t do this anymore. Look, neither of us are home, and your band is bigger than mine. That means more stops, and more places to play concerts.” The girl on the other line sighed. “Cal, I love you, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t love you the way I do, when most of the time you’re on the other side of the world. I’m sorry, but it’s over,” is what she’d said to him. 

Nia had quickly ended the call, leaving a heartbroken Calum on the other line, the phone still up to his ear, her voice still ringing in his ears. 

“What happened?” His best friend, Ashton, had asked.

“Nia, uh, she left me.” He’d had no strength to say anymore, as his throat was becoming too tight to speak, while tears welled up in his eyes threatening to spill onto his cheeks. 

Ashton’s eyebrows rose, and he immediately stood to catch the younger boy in a hug, before could collapse. “I’m sorry, mate. I know you love her.”

Three years later, and Calum hated anything that reminded him of Nia. Valentine’s day was her favorite holiday, he hated it. She loved his home country Australia, he hated living there. She loved his eyes, he hated them. She loved him, he hated himself. 

It wasn’t a conscious thing. Most of the time he didn’t think about it, he just did it. Anything that reminded him of her, he absolutely hated. 

When Eliza walked into his life, he hated her, even though she’d had nothing to do with his ex. Her smile was easy to like, and her blue eyes were kind. Her accent was slightly British, but it was mostly American. He’d guessed she lived in both areas a one point in time.

Eliza was beautiful, and she looked nothing like Nia. She had blonde hair, while Nia changed her hair color frequently. Eliza’s eyes were blue, while Nia’s eyes were hazel. Eliza was average height, while Nia was tall, nearly as tall as Calum himself. 

Calum never knew why he didn’t like Eliza, he just didn’t. He assumed it was because she was so cheerful, having the best of moods when everyone was feeling shitty. It was one of the reasons why Luke, Micheal, and Ashton kept hanging out with her. 

During the first year of his knowing Eliza sometimes Calum would catch his best friend, Ashton, glancing at Eliza more often than the other guys. Calum assumed that he’d liked the young girl, and if Ashton liked her, then Calum would suck it up, because he wouldn’t be the the one to ruin his friends happiness. 

When Ashton had finally asked Eliza out on a date, and when Eliza had agreed, the date, and a small kiss had ensued after. Ashton came straight to Calum’s house telling him that the date went well, but afterward when he’d kissed her, it felt like he was kissing his sibling. 

Ashton quickly told Eliza of this, and she had said that she felt the same, although Calum thought she’d said this to make Ashton feel better. 

The next day passed without either Ashton or Eliza making things awkward between the two, and they continued acting like best friends. Calum thought that Eliza was a good actor to be hiding her feelings for Ashton. 

When Eliza told Calum to just call her Eli, instead of her full name, he’d felt his heart stutter in his chest. This was something that he didn’t understand. He didn’t have feelings for her, for the two years that he’d known her, he’d hated anything to do with her. 

When he started paying attention, he noticed everyone called her Eli. Even Crystal and Sierra, and he’d wondered when the three of them had become best friends. Eliza had even gone so far as to give the both of them nickname. Crystal’s being Crys, and Sierra’s being Erra. He’d thought the names were childish, but the more he’d thought about it, the more he’d conceded that they had fit the two girls.

When he returned home that night to his dog, and his bed, he promised himself that he would try harder to be kind to Eli. In the two years that he’s known her, he’s barely said three words to her. And he’d chided himself in being an asshole. This wasn’t how his mother raised him. 

When he’d seen her the next day, he’d said hello, and engaged in active conversation with her. The guys seemed pleased that he was opening up to her. And once again, when Calum was paying attention, he’d noticed that Eli had called all the guys by their nicknames, and he wasn’t even aware that she’d given one to Luke. 

She’d called him Lu. And while Calum’s head said that it was childish and the name was fit for a baby, his heart thumped in his chest, and he’d hoped that she would give him a nickname. 

Two weeks later, when she’d called him Bub, and he’d responded immediately to her, his face flushed, and he swore the entire room was spinning. The guys had been taken aback from his response, and it took him a second to realize what he’d said.

“Yes, Sweetheart?” He didn’t think twice about what he’d called her, and she didn’t either. And once he did, he saw that Ashton had a small smile on his face, while Michael and Luke were practically bouncing on the couch. 

“Can you help me get this bowl down? I can’t reach it.” She’d said in her soft voice, and Calum melted.

“Of course,” he got up, and he’d noticed that his legs felt like jelly, and his hands felt slick. When he’d reached the kitchen, he saw Eli standing over the stove, and his heart soared in his chest. He could quickly tell that Eli was nothing like Nia. Nia hated cooking, while Eli looked completely at home in the kitchen, in Calum’s kitchen. 

He smiled. He reached up and grabbed the bowl with one hand while the other unconsciously grabbed her waist, not noticing that the guys had shuffled into the dining room, and were watching the pair interact. 

Ashton quickly saw that Calum’s eyes had softened when he looked at Eli, and his mannerisms had completely changed around her. He was gentle, and his hand at her waist looked completely at home there. Calum’s hands leaving goosebumps on Eli’s skin that Ashton could see from the dining room. He was happy for his brother. Calum looked happy standing in his own kitchen with Eli by his side, it had been awhile since Ashton had seen Calum act like this. 

Luke was bouncing on his heels as he looked at his two best friends in the kitchen. He’d been skeptical when he saw Calum finally take interest in Eli, but when he saw the way that Calum had looked at her, it was almost impossible not to look away. Calum looked at her as if she were God, and Luke wasn’t even sure if he could believe it. He’d known Calum, and Calum hadn’t made his distaste for the blonde girl a secret. But how could Luke be skeptical of it when Eli looked at Calum the same way?

Michael had known that Eli had a thing for Calum. After all, he was the one to introduce her to the band. He’d seen how her eyes followed Calum’s every move, and he’d seen how she didn’t press herself onto him, understanding that he’d open up to her when he was ready. Michael hadn’t known how she didn’t get angry with Caum for being distasteful towards her. Michael, Luke, and Ashton had told Calum that he wasn’t being fair, but he hadn’t given in. 

The boys watched in awe as Calum got the bowl down for Eli. Her small frame being completely obscured by Calum’s broad shoulders. He smiled a tiny smile that none of the boys had ever seen, and they assumed that it was meant for Eli. They all felt their hearts melt for their best friend. They’d all been shocked when she called him Bub, and even more so when he’d called her Sweetheart. He’d never given his ex any nicknames whatsoever. It made them wonder when the two had gotten so close. 

They knew in the back of their minds that he was smitten with her, and her with him, and it was only a matter of time before they got together. 

Calum was vaguely aware of the boys in the back watching him be soft to Eli, but all he cared about in that moment was how aware of him she was. He felt the goosebumps on her skin underneath his hand. He heard her take in a breath through her teeth, and watched her bite her lip out of nervousness. 

The pair had gotten close due to Calum’s resolve to be kinder to her. He’d stayed over at her place many nights over the past two weeks, and the two had stayed up all night talking about everything. He loved listening to her speak, and the first night that she’d fallen asleep in his arms was the first night that he’d actually gotten a full night’s sleep. 

And he’d dreamt about Eli. He’d dreamt about holding her forever, and about kissing her plump pink lips. He dreamt about loving her. And when he woke up, she was still in his arms, and his resolve had faded away. He didn’t want to do this anymore because he wanted to be kinder towards her, he wanted to do this because he wanted her.

Her arm brushed against his hand, and it left tingles in its wake. She expertly unwound herself from his grasp, and he was immediately hit with feelings of distraught and discomfort. He always wanted her to be in his arms. 

And as for Eli, she wanted to be held by Calum, and it physically hurt her to put distance between herself, and the man she was so desperately in love with. Her waist was still tingling with the remnants of his touch, and her hands ached to hold his. 

Her brain was left muddled, and her movements seemed sluggish because of the ache in her bones that made her want to be closer to him. 

Calum himself couldn’t stand to be even three feet away from her, and his body moved closer to her without him even registering it. His arms were wrapping themselves around her waist, and he was burying his face into her neck, and he could practically see her smile. 

She sighed and leaned into his touch, the cool metal of his rings feeling nice against the warmth of her skin. All she wanted to do was cook dinner for the kind boys that took her in, and for the beautiful boy who stole her breath. 

Calum seemed appeased, and his soul was light. The young boy was very happy to have his arms around the girl he was falling in love with. He kissed the girls neck without even thinking about it. And he heard her giggle, and he knew the guys in the dining room could as well. 

It was a sound that the three of them hadn’t heard before. They had all heard her laugh, it was loud and it got higher in pitch as she laughed harder. Truth be told, her laugh was melodic, but she would say it sounded like a dying goose. 

So of course this was a surprise to the boys standing in the dining room, continuing to stand dumbfounded at the couple in the kitchen. 

Calum had heard this sound before. He loved her big boisterous laugh, but this little giggle of hers, he knew was only for him. He smiled against her neck, and kissed it again. He so desperately wanted to kiss her mouth, but he didn’t, he wouldn’t kiss her until he had taken her on a proper date. 

When he looked to his brothers standing in the dining room, with dumb smiles on their faces, Calum gave them a lazy smile before he turned back to look at the girl in his arms. 

The boys were shocked to say the least. They’d seen Calum at his laziest, but this was something new. This was Calum being completely happy, and content. He wasn’t being lazy, he just felt lazy, it was the first time in three years that he didn’t have his guard up. And the boys could tell. 

Eli’s hands shook from Calum’s lips pressing against her skin. How often had she imagined him kissing her like this? How often had she imagined him holding her like this? She couldn’t remember, all she could think about were his arms around her, and how good it felt to have his skin pressed against hers. 

Eli had set the bowl down, that held the flour for the chicken she was making, and turned around in his arms. She looked up to see his face. She placed her flour covered hands on either side of his face, leaned up and kissed his cheek. She felt his breath on her neck, as she hugged him after. It was a nice feeling, and she enjoyed it maybe too much. 

Calum felt his breath hitch in his throat as she leaned up, he said he wouldn’t kiss her but his brain went into overdrive as he hadn’t thought about what if she kissed him first. He knew he wanted to kiss her, but the nervousness he felt when she leaned up towards him was almost back breaking. He’d felt no relief when he’d felt her lips on his cheek. Her lips were soft, as he’d already known that. She’d kissed his cheeks many times in the two weeks that they’d spent together. 

Before she could pull away from his hug, so that she could finish making dinner, he did what he’d wanted to wait to do, and he’d kissed her mouth. 

Her mouth was warm against his own, and she’d sighed in his mouth. Clearly she’d wanted this just as much as he did. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and pulled him closer towards her. His arms tightened around her waist, and he tugged her lower half closer to his own. The boys in the dining room weren’t sure if you could have placed a piece of paper between the two. 

Eli’s lips tingled with Calum’s mouth pressed against her own. If she could, she would kiss him for forever. His lips fit perfectly against her own, and her heart thumped in her chest. She could feel Calum’s heart beating at the same rate as hers, if not faster. Her fingers wrapped around the little curls sitting on the back of his neck. 

The two sighed, breathing each other in. They never wanted this to end, but Calum’s growling stomach said that this wasn’t the time for a kitchen make out session.

When the two parted from each other, laughing slightly. The boys sitting in the dining room let out loud whoops, and whistles, as they were extremely happy for the two of them. Eli blushed and hid her face in Calum’s neck. 

He smiled into her hair, he hadn’t felt this light in so long. He’d missed the feeling. She brought out the best in him. He kissed her head, and breathed in her coconut scent. He was addicted to it, just like he was addicted to her.

But in time, he lost her too. 

It was a year into their relationship. They were perfect for each other. They knew what each other needed at all times. They fit together perfectly, and Calum often wondered how he got so lucky, because it seemed like whatever God was up there, created her just for him. 

Eli had similar thoughts. 

And while they were perfect for each other, that didn’t stop them from having human tendencies. They fought often, and the fights blew up with so much anger that Calum had to go stay at Ashton’s place just to cool down. 

He didn’t like falling asleep knowing that he was angry with Eli, and she the same with him. He hated things that made her upset. 

When he saw her the next day, to tell her he was sorry, and that he would promise to keep his anger controlled, she was standing there. She was on the porch with Duke’s leash in hand, and it seemed she was about to go on her morning run.

When she turned around, after locking the front door, she briefly looked at Calum’s face, and continued to walk toward the gate that separated the front yard from the sidewalk. 

“Sweetheart-” he began.

“We’ll talk when I get back. I promise.” She stepped through the gate. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” He smiled in relief, he knew he was partially forgiven.

She smiled back. “I know.” She continued to walk a bit, and then broke into a slow jog with Duke in hand, and turned a corner. 

He knew there was something wrong when she didn’t return for another hour. She always made sure that she was only out for half an hour. Always. 

He was too busy pacing around the house with worry, when he got the call. By the time it was ringing for the third time, he snapped out of his daze, and answered the phone. 

“Hello?” he’d said.

“Cal, mate, I’m coming to get you.” Calum was instantly confused by Ashton’s voice on the other line. 

“Why, Ashton?”

“Cal, Eli’s been in an accident with Duke. Duke - he uh, he didn’t make it.” Calum felt all the air leave his lungs, and his legs gave out from beneath him. “The car came out of nowhere, she was crossing the street,” he paused choosing his next words wisely. “Cal, she needs you.”

“Ash-Ashton,” Calum cleared his throat, the tightness was becoming unbearable. “How is she, and don’t give me some lame ass answer because you think I’m gonna fucking die inside. I want the truth.”

Ashton could hear his brother’s plea’s, and he answered to the best of his ability without wanting Calum to break down on the other line. “She’s bad, Cal. They aren’t sure…”

“If she’ll make it.” Calum finished. He couldn’t hear the rest of what Ashton was trying to tell him. The phone dropped from his hands. He lost his dog the only person -four legged or otherwise- that loved him without a fault, and he was about to lose Eli. His Eli. He didn’t register his screams until Ashton was there, wrapping his arms around Calum. 

“Calum, Cal, buddy, you gotta calm down.” Ashton had known that Calum was a big guy, and he was at least three inches taller than Ashton. And Ashton was big himself, and he’d have to help his taller friend to the car. “Cal, buddy, I’m gonna need your help to get to the car. I’m gonna take you to see Eli.” 

At the sound of her name, Calum’s hysterics calmed down into soft sobs. Ashton thanked God and all of his helpers for giving him the strength to carry his best friend to the car.

When the two of them were buckled into the car, Ashton sped out of the driveway, and drove like a maniac to get to the hospital. He thanked God again for making all the stoplights green. 

The hospital was white from top to bottom, it smelled of sickness, and death. It didn’t sit well on Calum’s soul. 

Michael and Luke were already in the waiting room. Both of their faces were tear stained, and more tears fell at the sight of Calum’s broken face. 

They’d all seen Calum at his worst point, but seeing this absolutely heartbroken side of him, was something they’d never experienced. 

They all sat in the waiting room for at least two hours, waiting for any sign of life coming through the doors. Waiting for just a flash of a white lab coat, or the scrubs of a nurse. But nothing came for two hours.

So they waited. And waited. And waited.

Calum didn’t move once for the two hours that he sat in that chair. It was uncomfortable, but he didn’t move. He didn’t do anything. He just sat, and stared at the floor. When the doctor came in, he moved so quickly, the other boys hadn’t noticed that he moved. 

“Where is she.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Room 14.”

He nodded, and stepped through the doors. He marched his way into the room where the love of his life lay. She looked dead. Her hand was cold, and Calum could barely make out a pulse. If it weren’t for the steady beeping of the monitor beside her bed, he would’ve thought she was actually dead. 

He pulled a chair up to her bed, and sat with her hand in his. “You can’t leave me yet, baby. We’re supposed to grow old t'gether. ‘Member? We’re gonna have four beautiful babies, with my hair and your beautiful blue eyes.” 

He hadn’t been paying enough attention to the door to notice Michael, Luke, and Ashton enter. They were all teary eyed again, having stayed for the doctor’s confirmation that, Eli wasn’t gonna make it. 

Two of her ribs had pierced through her lungs causing it to collapse, the other was causing internal bleeding on her heart, the doctor said that if she were to survive Eli would remain comatose. She wouldn’t ever wake up. 

Tears fell freely from Calum’s cheeks, and he couldn’t stop himself from crying into her hand, that he so desperately wished would squeeze his hand back.

“Eli, baby, please wake up. Please, I need ya’ with me. Ya’ can’t go yet.” Calum could barely breathe with how hard he was crying. “Sweetheart, please. You promised we’d talk. Talk to me baby. Need'a hear your voice so bad.”

He felt her hand squeeze his lightly before her heart stuttered on the monitor, and he prayed he wasn’t losing her yet. It didn’t pick up it’s beat, and so many colored scrubs rushed in, and surrounded her bed. 

The boys were rushed out of the room, but before they could get too far, Calum collapsed on the ground, his heart shattering in his chest. 

Luke, Ashton, and Michael swore they could all hear Calum’s heartbreak in their own ears. His sobs racked the room, and Ashton couldn’t even comfort his friend now. He was too busy nursing the heartache in his own chest. 

Five minutes later a doctor emerged, and shook her head at the boys. Calum cried harder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

Calum didn’t get the strength to enter the room until Luke had exited, from saying his goodbyes. 

He entered the room. And fell to the ground again. “I’m so sorry baby. I should’ve told you to stay, I should’ve made you stay with me. God, I love you so much. I’m so sorry baby. I’m so sorry.” 

Calum left the room, and his sobs could be heard from miles away. He didn’t know how he was going to make it without her. His heart was hurting, and his brain was tired. He tried to remember what they were arguing about the night before, but nothing came to mind. 

He cried harder, and Michael came to his aid. 

“Cal, you can’t put this on yourself. No one could have known that there was gonna be an accident,” Michael had said. Michael wanted to cry, but he didn’t want to break down in front of Calum, just in case it would make him worse. “Cal, bub,” he sighed using the nickname that Eli had given him. It stung Calum’s heart as he heard it leave Michael’s mouth, and not Eli’s. “You gotta get up. Her parents are here.”

Calum had met Eli’s parents on a number of occasions, and he knew that they would be just as heartbroken as he was. They’d lost their child. They’d be extremely upset. You were supposed to outlive your parents. 

“Calum!” Her father Pete had yelled for him. “Calum, son,” Pete was running toward the two boys as his wife Cherrie went into Eli’s room, and they had seen heartache and pain written all across her face and Pete’s. “M’sorry, You lost her too.”

Calum broke down again, but this time, in her father’s arms. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, it’s my fault, she always goes for runs, and she - I…” Calum’s hysterics had returned, and Pete did nothing to calm him down, for he was on the verge of breaking down himself. “I should have made her stay. We were supposed to talk,” he hiccupped. “Wanted to marry her. Wanted kids with her… She’s gone, she isn’t coming back! She’s gone.”

“It’s alright, it was an accident.” Her father sighed. “Calum, you gotta listen to me. She would want you to pick yourself up, she’d want you to forgive, and remember, because she’d never forget you.”

Calum nodded. “Okay,” he whispered. 

As time went on, Calum missed Eli every day. He never used any of the pet names he gave her with anyone else. He didn’t hate himself for the accident anymore, he remembered it, and while it wasn’t a memory he looked back onto fondly, he remembered that his brothers were there for him. And because of the accident, it made the bond they had stronger. 

He moved out of his and Eli’s house, the memories it was filled with were too painful to remember. Ashton had moved out of his house, and the two had moved into a smaller apartment, the smaller space welcoming, and cozy. 

Luke and Michael came over often to visit, and the nights were often filled with laughter, and making new music. Calum often looked back on these days, and he remembered the pain filled nights, and the tired coffee filled mornings. And Ashton’s playful, shower singing. 

He thanked whatever god existed, for giving him Eli, and he thanked Eli for loving him the way she did. He thanked himself, for loving her, even in death.

[ardenttheories]

I think one of the biggest letdowns about the Meat Epilogue for everyone seems to be how much it trashed the development of the characters up to the end of Homestuck. 

A lot of people have been pointing this out most fervently with Dirk. He went from someone who was well aware of his flaws, of his obsessions, of his tendency to take over and control, of his capability to hurt the people he cares for most, from someone who genuinely cares about every single person he’s met and tries his best to be a better person for them... to someone who was actively harming them without a fucking care in the world, under some misguided theory that he was doing the right thing. 

And yes, I recognise that this is because of the Ultimate Self bullshit. Dirk has become every little splinter of himself that exists across Paradox Space - all the good ones, all the bad ones, all the ones in between. All of that mingles and merges into what we get in the Epilogues, and it, to some degree, makes sense. 

But here’s two thoughts for you.

Why did he have to end up like that? If, by the end of Homestuck, he was getting better, and if the chances of there being just as many Emotionally Developed Dirks as Emotionally Stunted Dirks is incredibly high, why does he have to take all those bad qualities and bring them out to the fore of who he is in the Epilogue? Why does that have to be the route he goes down, when he was in such a good position when Earth C was created and when he’s merged with plenty of emotionally capable Dirks as part of becoming his Ultimate Self? 

When Homestuck ended, I considered Dirk a Realised Prince of Heart. A Prince of Heart who’d worked through all his shit, opened up to people, recognised that he needed to share his burdens and to let people in - to use his powers for good, not for the harm of the people around him. He was aware of what he could do, and actively choosing to use it in a productive way. 

In the Epilogue, he’s a True Prince of Heart. He’s destroying without truly recognising it as destruction. He’s become the epitome of what it means to be a Prince of Heart, without any growth of character or any attempt to use what he can do for the benefit of the people around him. He’s hurting them instead; shaping them into things he thinks they should be, completely disregarding their individuality because of his own thoughts on free will and how illusive it is. 

This is the Dirk we had at the beginning of Act 6, merged with the Bro we saw at the beginning of the comic. And sure, from the standpoint of the Ultimate Self, it can make sense - if you disregard the fact that he could as easily become a Good Dirk as a Bad Dirk. 

But what makes this suck so much as a fan is that, as people, we fucking hate seeing characters lose their development, and that’s what we see happening to Dirk. He’s regressed back to a point prior to all his development throughout Act 6. Everything that we saw him achieve has been lost, and it feels cheap because it fucking is cheap. It’s a literary constant. It’s one of those things that you don’t do. Destroying a story worth’s of development for no actual reason, or without showing why they’ve regressed, will never come across well. Especially in regards to an idea as abstract as the Ultimate Self - and, again, the very clear knowledge that Dirk, even as an Ultimate Self, didn’t have to end up like this when you consider his position at the end of Act 7. 

The development doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t flow. You don’t just go from “emotionally developed individual” straight back to “emotionally distant and morally perverse”, even with an idea like “he’s fused with every other instance of himself” - because logically, if he was in a good position, why wouldn’t he remain in that good position? What about the Ultimate Self ruined his development? Why does merging with every version of himself - the good and the bad - suddenly revert him all the way back to square one?

Which brings me on to thought two. I hope you’ll excuse me for the really dumb choice of fandom to explain this.

Supernatural is notorious for frequently setting its main characters - Sam and Dean - back to square one in terms of emotional development. Inevitably, something that was resolved in series 6 ends up being revisited in series 7 without explanation. Emotional issues that the brothers had resolved almost always become an issue again; relationships that they thought had healed always find a way to come back; issues with their past that they had come to terms with almost inevitably cause them to split up yet again, and become the main issue to be resolved throughout the new series. 

This, from what I can tell, is a big reason why a lot of people fell out of the fandom. It’s why I did. You can only watch characters grow, and regress, and grow, and regress again over the same thing so many times before it starts to get disheartening. Just when you think they’re better, that they’ve solved it, that everything’s okay, it’s brought up all over again to make them suffer over and over and over. There’s only so much of this you can take in a character before it becomes dull, or boring, or unrealistic. 

And that’s exactly the issue with Dirk’s development in the Epilogue. For a lot of people, it’s unrealistic. Even with the Ultimate Self taken into account, it still seems wrong - because we’re seeing him go through the same mistakes all over again, and when you’ve already seen it once, seen him get through it and grow and progress and and become better, seeing it again but worse does not leave you feeling satisfied. It’s disheartening. It’s narratively a cheap move to try and cause more tension. 

The fact of the matter is, whether that’s the point or not, it’s a sign of bad storytelling. There’s no reason for Dirk to have slipped during the Epilogue, other than “because Hussie said so”. Narratively it just didn’t need to happen. Narratively, it’s not what people were expecting, either. And dropping something this huge without providing any hints beforehand just doesn’t work. If you’ve set up a character to get better, to be in the best possible place he could be, or on the road to recovery, suddenly pulling out a regression of character doesn’t work. It won’t feel satisfying because you didn’t imply the possibility - you didn’t build suspense, you didn’t leave the seed for people to think about at the end of Act 7. You just dropped it, at random, and expected people to be prepared for it.  

This is like Hussie pulling out a gun and yelling “aha! Look at how wonderfully I have crafted this masterpiece!!” without ever having insinuated that he was going to pull out a gun to begin with. 

Compare this, for instance, to the reveal that it’s Adult John who ends up getting sucked into the Ultimate Treasure alongside Teen Jade, Dave, and Rose as part of the Epilogue. This is a good drop. This is a good reveal. We knew this was an event that happened; we knew that it was something an unreliable narrator had said; we knew this was something that never actually ended up happening in the main story of Homestuck. This isn’t a surprise because the foundation of the reveal was all there. We knew it was John, Dave, Rose, and Jade that would end up in there - we just didn’t know which John, Dave, Rose and Jade it would be, or why. Our expectations for that scene are shattered, but because of how it was set up it ends up being more shocking and more exciting because of it. All the pieces were put in place for Hussie to build on. 

That’s not what we get with Dirk. The pieces put in place for him were that he was meant to get better, that he was improving, that we’d see him as the best Dirk Strider there could possibly be - a foil to Bro, the abusive dickhead Dave had dealt with his entire young life, someone who would step up and take the shape of a healthy familial figure in Dave’s life. This subversion doesn’t work. Not in a satisfying, enjoyable, or natural way. It’s shocking, yes - but it’s a bitter shock, a shock that no-one saw coming, rather than a shock that suddenly blows your mind.

A Dirk who goes from “I wish I could love Roxy, because (s)he’s the best one out of the lot of us, and (s)he deserves that” to “I’m going to actively misgender my best friend because part of my Ultimate Self was merged with Lord English and I rely heavily of the dichotomy between male and female to understand myself” is interesting, yes, but not the way it’s done. It’s fucking horrific to read Dirk talk about someone he’s meant to love that way, and it’s not a good sort of horrific. 

Ultimate Self Dirk being the douchebag he is in Meat can make sense and work, sure. But not in the way Hussie framed the narrative of Act 6-Act 7. When you’ve framed your narrative to make the character grow, reverting everything in some shock twist at the end will never settle well with your fanbase. That’s why Dirk’s role feels weird, and out of place, and overall bad on an emotional level. The jump was too big, too unbelievable - and for the main plot point of your Epilogue, that’s not really what you want to end a series.