#and it made everything i was stressed abt come to the surface and everything is just. bad again

[invisiblyvisiblejay]

having my regulary scheduled mental breakdown 👍

[en-d-d]

So, this is my first post, so hello everyone! I don't really know how to properly navigate this platform just yet, but I'm sure I will figure it out, so please bear with me.

Having said that, unfortunately, I've come here today to rant a little on social media about things that make me borderline insane just from listening to. Most specifically, from MTXT's works. (Because if I ever see another wrong characterization for those fictional people I've became very attached to, I'm actually going to go mad.)

(This is not meant to be an attack of any sorts, I'm just a teenager on social media pulling my nerves into writing because who knows, maybe I can finally be at peace then.)

Let's start then!

Xie Lian is not owo small cutie or sum, and if I hear that one time... my man may be short, but he could fight off almost anyone, just thanos clapping people out of existence. He's also very insane and very horny about the Calamity attached to his hip. My guy is pretty smart and also just kinda gives patient auntie vibes (you know, that auntie that can see beyond everyone's bull but choses not to).

And if I already started with TGCF, may as well continue with it. Hua Cheng is a switch and you can't convince me otherwise. (If his Dianxia wanted to top, he would be as elated as he would be if Dianxia wanted to bottom. My man doesn't care.)

Luo Binge being referred as a white lotus and people not knowing what it means ("In Chinese internet novels, the term "white lotus" refers to a character who appears innocent, naive, and pure on the surface but uses this reputation to backstab, blame, or sling mud on others.") (I believe maybe people confuse this with the other meanings of the white lotus, like, actually naive or pure in character, but those are obliviously not what they mean in the chinese novels)

Shen Yuan is Kim Dokja, but chinese (or maybe KD is SY but korean)

Lan Wangji did not like Wei Wuxian despite him being 'evil', he loved him exactly because he isn't evil. I can't stress this enough. If wwx was a actually bad person, lwj would not hesitate to cut his head off and be done with the matter. Whenever I see someone saying something about him liking wwx even if he's evil, I'm slowly loosing my mind, bcz no, lwj is not such a shallow person, to be attracted to someone based purely on looks (and we do know this bcz he loves wwx in mxy's body just as much as he loved him in his original body.)

Now, we're moving into a territory I like exploring. I just want to start this off saying that I don't like Jiang Wanyin. I just don't care very much about him and I find him annoying as a person. With that being said, I'm a little miffed with fellow jc dislikers bcz they sometimes invent some things up about him or such shenanigans. Like. Man, you do not need to invent things to hate abt him, there are already plenty of them. I'm pretty unbiased when it comes to actual judgements about others. I will protect someone if the points made about them is incorrect as much as I will point out every thing they actually did bad.

And the next point is still abt jc (wow, what a surprise) just bcz, honest to god, a lot of his fans are straight up annoying. I've said it. A lot of y'all are hella annoying. (Not to say that there exist a lor of annoying fans for other characters, it's just that jc has a very high number of them) Some of the ones I don't find bad are those that like him just becouse of how bad of a person he is. I can respect that. What I can't respect is another owo he's innocent and traumatized and a tsundere and everything is wwx's fault owo jc fan. Fam, did we read the same book, or has media really rotten our colective brain that much??

(I believe I have more comments on this jc topic, but my brain is starting to hurt.)

And the last one is Wei Wuxian, probably the most controversial character in all of MTXT's novels. First of all, I have to be clear about this, but in all of this post, I'm purely referring to the characters from the books, not the other adaptations. This is important, bcz the adaptations further skewed wwx's image in the fandom.

I have saved him for least because of just how much things tick me off in this fandom when discussing wwx in special.

Disclaimer that I sincerely believe that you should enjoy and do art and fanfiction of characters however you want. If you want wwx to be, idk, a demon that terrorizes people and breaks lwj's heart and then jc comes and saves the situation from the evil patriarch and then french kisses Lan Xichen, then go ahead, idc (Unless you say he's owo, you have no excuse that would allow you to do that unless you're a child, and if you are, then you shouldn't even be here). But I draw the line when people lie about canon characterizations.

And there is just so much misconceptions on wwx's character that I would need an essay just to compose a list of them. They range from huge details that somehow miss people like how their neurons miss firing, to small details, like his handwriting (I believe the novel said it was cursive, not messy, like how almost all the fandom has apparently mutually agreed on. Do corect me if I'm wrong on this, some things are lost from translation to translation)

I will be discussing just some of them here. Maybe I will do another post where I go in more detail, we will see.

ADHD Wei Wuxian. The people that believe wwx has ADHD should probably reread the novel, bcz that characterization comes mostly from CQL. In the novel, wwx is a very chill guy that can stay in one place perfectly fine. I will not go into more details, just read the novel.

Wei Wuxian is the reason for the Jiang's collapse. Bull statement, everytime I see it, well, I go a little more insane. If you know a little politics, you would realize the Jiangs were next on the list for sure. Why, you would ask. The Lans already burnt themselves to the ground. The Nies have a fortress for a sect. The Jins are almost-not-exactly allies with the Wens. Now, guess who is the most unfavorably positioned gentry sect (lakes are not a good strategic spot), with lax protection (how did the Wens just march in like that like what) and a little too carele leader (Jiang Fenmiang really thought the Wens will give them back the swords after that whole disaster that was the indoctrination? Really??). Oh! I think I know who it is! And maybe you guessed it too. Glad we're on the same page.

Now, wwx being the reason why jc lost his core. Very many people already came to their own conclusion on why jc gave himself up. Brotherly affection, suicidal thoughts or just straight up idiocy. Whatever you believe, it's fine with me (but I do have a brother and I can assure you, wwx and jc never really seemed like brothers to me. They are a little too far to the left to be considered brothers, but this is my opinion, take it however you will). So, was it wwx's fault?

We're finally getting into the juicy stuff. The blame game. I hate it with my being, still, as long as I'm in fandoms, I must persist. My answer is yes & no. Did wwx deliberately made it so jc would be captured? Of course not. Did it still happened? Unfortunately, yes. To go deeper, we will look a little at fate. There are some things that are outside of our control. As much as we prepare, some things will still blow us over. So the definite answer is no. Jc made the decision to be seen by the Wens. It might sound callous , but the decisions you make are yours, even if you protect someone's life or not. Wwx did not ask to be protected. In conclusions, it's not his fault.

And that is a very good statement to make, seeing as we got to the core transfer. People often criticize wwx for giving non-consensualy his core to jc. I always thought it as a weird thing to hate him about, but whatever, I still shall address it. I will start with an exemple. If you loved someone very much, and they would die if they don't get, idk, a new arm (maybe think of something less inconspicuous, but you understand the ideea) they would die. You are the single person that can do it. But you're sure that if someone told your loved one that you would give it, they would refuze it. Are you still going to give your arm? Will you let your loved one die? Knowing that you can help?

And for those that say jc was not on the brink of death. He was suicidal. He would not have resisted a week with the shame of inferiority plus all the trauma that the Lotus Pier massacre was, combined. 'Regaining' his core might have actually made him feel better, like he beat the odds, like he has another chance. That's also why wwx never told him he gave him his core. Bcz he knew jc would not take it easy, finding out that all his accomplishments were thanks to wwx's sacrifice. Because jc has a big ego that's clearly evident through the story.

Anyways, let's continue.

Ghostly Cultivation. It's more popularity used the Demonic Cultivation term, but they are not the same think for Christ's sake. Modao Zushi does mean The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, however the title is for click bait. In the actual novel, I believe wwx talks abt ghostly cultivation, not demonic. It was probably lost in translations.

I don't think I need to explain how wwx needed guidao to escape the Burial Mounds, so at least half of my job is already done. Now I go into dangerous territory however, bcz guidao is not expended upon. Still, I would rather listen to wwx when it's about, you know, the path he himself created?

To explain my stance, we would need to go deeper into the novel's points. A novel can have multiple themes, ranging from obvious ones, like love, family, to obscure ones, like, the importance of standing up for oneself (not the best exemple, but I believe y'all understand what I mean).

I'm someone that loves thinking abt MDZS. It's my dearest. So, I tend to analyze it pretty often. And the themes I usually get are things like 'the danger of hearsay and mob mentality', 'the importance of standing true to your ideals', 'the inherit unpredictability of life' and so on, and so on.

Anyways, what does that have to do with guidao? Well, everything, I believe. The MDZS world has a mentality resembling that of the curent China. Or well, the China of when MXTX wrote the novel. If you know some history, I believe you can connect the similarities. What does that mean then?

Wwx is someone that does not fallow the path set by the ancestors. He creates his own. When the cultivators see that, they are revolted. Becouse everything that strays from the 'right' path must surely be evil. And so, after Wen Ruohan, the Jins paint him as the new anarchist, and the rest is history.

Now, I would actually love to continue, but I've been typing nonstop for hours now, I need to stop. I will continue my points in another post, bcz I still have a lot of them.

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful day 💐

[shit-taster-connoisseur]

for the character thing, Numbuh 362!

favorite thing about them

Wanna be lazy and say everything(cause techinally that'd be correct) but, i love how through her we see the realities of being a leader for global kids' organizations and stress that comes with it. She's strong and determined, and those same traits are what i love abt her

least favorite thing about them

Not actually pertaining to her character, but like never enjoyed how old(and some new) KND fanfics protrayed her. Like girl STAND UP

favorite line

"Me neither. It made you look old."

Rachel was so stupid during the M & B and KND crossover its hilarious xjx

brOTP

Her and Nigel

OTP

Moonbabes

nOTP

Her and Chad. Idc they're cousins in my mind

random headcanon

She sneaks sips of coffee that's ratio'd by either water or hot chocolate. Usually delivered personally by Fanny because Rachel has a reputation to uphold.

unpopular opinion

She was not asking out Nigel at the end of OP G.I.R.L.F.R.I.E.N.D. She was just being awkward.

song i associate with them

So many

Milk & Honey by Rare Americans

Surface Pressure from Encanto

We're going up by Tim McMorris

What You Waiting For? by Gwen Stefani

favorite picture of them

She looks like one of those Renaissance paintings here im sorry

[whataphantasia]

oog i keep forgetting to post here,,, i did a really big oc x canon promptlist on my alt twitter acc like, last year, and i like the stuff i did for it so im posting it here :3

day 1: dancing

needed to draw this for the fic where they dance at prom and a destroyed universe respectively ^_^

day 2: stargazing. the thumbnail image at the top :D

day 3: phone call

day 4: (not so) sneaky glances

ely sits inbetween these two in class. they have to deal with them staring daggers at each other. very stressful sorry ely </3 here's the doodle from like 2019 that made me wanna draw this

also like there's this moment in the fic where eadr is watching mysterious mysteries together and..... HSHSBDHSHDGDHDHS

day 5: "i'm proud of you"

THESE TWO NEED VALIDATION SO BAD RAGHHH don't @ me about the lighting on zim IK ITS REVERSED,,,

day 6: music/playlist. i didn't make any art for this but i did show off my playlists for zaeadr :D i will not elaborate here bc I Don't Feel Like It.

day 7: whispers

this is actually a redraw... :3c specieswap eadr! so cute :)

day 8: closeness

ok i didnt actually make any new art for this i just posted two old ones from 2021 LOL

day 9: protectiveness (CW blood)

dib and zim r dangerous to have as love interests come on ely 😔

day 10: "how was your day" (CW blood as well)

ely needs to tell him to stop tracking blood into the house.....

day 11: one wish

WOW something NOT ely related?! anyways ana and ad's whole love arc is kinda like... they both have responsibilities and unrequited feelings. moreso than my other oc x canon pairings. i think them a lot

day 12: matching accessories

cove jumpscare. IDK I WAS THINKING ABOUT THE MATCHING KEYCHAINS HE BUYS FOR MC... this is reiner btw i was playing as xim in my like 3rd playthrough >_< xe's fond of spoiling him with gifts, more than my other mcs...

day 13: nightmare

it took me 13 days to break and make sans x shelby art SJWKDJWJ anyway. shelby doesn't meet him pre-corruption but whatever i think they're cute

day 14: makeup

I HATE THIS DRAWING RAAAA but ely likes asking to do his nails ^_^ even tho theyre terrible at it but he doesnt mind :3c

day 15: "you are my happiness"

ok uhh my bad this isn't oc x canon LOL. but... erfi and ana... have a lot of angst like halfway/early in their arc bc erfi sees her as a beacon of light/savior, especially due to her current relationship with the ppl in her life.................... they get better dw!!! ad goes through a similar arc so i think that was how i tied it into the oc x canon promptlist LMAO

day 16: indirect kiss

SODA BOTTLE... IF YOU KNOW YOU KNOW. i've talked about this scene in the fic NON STOP to my close friends.... its when dib realizes he has a crush on ely...... i drew this like in 2021 SHWJSJW

day 17: morning cuddles

SORRY i just think it's a super funny possibility that zim becomes domestic. idc if it's out of character thats why its funny U_U!!

oh and uhm yea i have a fankid 4 these guys... have i talked abt her... i dont think i have... but ive drawn her a lot... maybe ill post more art abt her later...

day 18: photoshoot

uhhhmmm im gonna crop this for my tumblr.... yea.... anyways i love the possibility that when they're adults they become super popular, like in dib's wonderful life of doom X)

day 19: voicemail. THAT ONE THING I POSTED!! yes it was a shelby x error thing. i was listening to pick up the phone by fir at the time, which like, its not the errorshelby dynamic at all they're not toxic, but. the vibes... in the fic after shelby leaves the anti void he has a massive crisis... thats what the drawing is...

day 20: "what happened to you"

BRO I HAVE SO MANY IMAGES RELATED TO THIS FOR ANA AND ADAMAÏ... the images explain everything idc read them instead

day 22/23: hand made gift, late night drive

ummmm sooooo theres this chapter in the fic where they go to an echo flower field on the surface at night........ this is that.... DIES

that last one i never posted on twitter :0c and uhm thats all i did of the 30 day promptlist! it was fun! i got to draw so much... yay :3 thats all. explodes in embarrassment

[faefoundmoon]

autistic rambling abt puss in boots 2

I will preface this by saying that there are no spoilers here, but PLEASE go watch Puss in Boots 2 for yourself if you can. Don’t pirate it; the crew needs to know that we see it. That we want more like it. Nothing I’ve typed does the movie justice. You don’t need to have watched Puss in Boots 1 to understand it, and you don’t even need to have watched a single Shrek movie either. It works as a brilliant standalone film. Without further ado, let’s get into it!

I am quite literally going to throw up if I don't focus my energy about Puss in Boots: The Last Wish into something, so I’m just going to spill all my adoration for this film here. I know, I know. “Puss in Boots 2? The sequel to that mediocre movie about the funny little cat from Shrek that came out over a decade ago?” My entire family laughed at me when I told them I was going to see Puss in Boots 2 with my friends. But guys. GUYS. I cannot stress enough how extraordinary Puss in Boots 2 is for all ages. I honestly don’t think anything I could say can do it justice, but I’ll try my hardest. It makes me so incredibly sad that so many movie-goers are choosing to watch Avatar: The Way of Water over Puss in Boots just because it’s animated. We really need to end the stigma surrounding animation as a medium being exclusive to children. But this isn’t an essay about animated films. It’s about this animated film.

On the surface, it may seem like a quaint little movie about Puss and the frankly generic hero’s struggle with overcoming an inflated ego, but it’s so much more than that. Without giving away too much, Puss in Boots: The Last Wish dives headfirst into very emotionally mature topics in a way that I seldom see in movies- animated or otherwise. Puss grapples with the reality of mortality, and it’s really genuinely terrifying. Everything was incredibly effective; from the score to the shot choices, character acting, voice acting, animation style- everything lended itself to this masterpiece. I honestly feel like this is a perfect movie, and it’s a shame that it’s not getting the recognition it deserves. To put it in perspective, Avatar: The Way of Water has grossed about $1.4 billion worldwide. On the other hand, Puss in Boots: The Last Wish has grossed only $135 million, not even a tenth of what Avatar 2 made. To be fair, I have not seen Avatar 2 so I can’t make a valid judgment about which movie is arguably better, but I can’t imagine enjoying Avatar 2 nearly as much as Puss in Boots 2.

Don’t believe me? Check out its Rotten Tomatoes scores.

Yeah. Who the hell could’ve seen this coming?

I feel like this movie really showed off how animation is a medium that deserves respect. There are some aspects of this movie that just wouldn’t work in a live-action film, and I adore that. The exaggerated anatomy during fight scenes, a certain red-eyed wolf villain, and the incredible character acting are all things that I can’t imagine being executed as flawlessly as they did in the limitless medium of animation. The painterly brush strokes in the environment and characters really fit the fairytale genre. I was just blown away by the beauty packed in every single frame.

The fact that the pacing was so flawless despite there being 3 main villains and 3 main protagonists to give appropriate amounts of screentime was absolutely bonkers. At no point did it feel like we spent too long or too little on one character, and everyone’s motives and actions felt in-character, justified, and well thought out. It was so satisfying to reach the climax of the movie and see every character’s conflict get hashed out.

To me, this is what cinema is. This is what it’s all about. Not a wasted shot, not a wasted line, not a wasted second. Perfect intention in every moment. Every moment is dense with beautiful visuals and rich storytelling. As I was watching this movie, I knew that I would be back to see it again and again. I want to soak in every detail. I want to read the screenplay, study the storyboards, go frame by frame over the action sequences. I want to absorb the sum knowledge of everyone who worked on this movie through the screen.

I walked into this movie expecting absolutely nothing. I hadn’t watched the trailer, seen any billboards, or heard anything from word of mouth, so my hopes were low. But they were blown out of the water and into space by the end. It wasn’t just good because I wasn’t expecting anything. It was genuinely, undeniably, indisputably an excellent movie. Please, please go watch it if you can. Hell, watch it twice if you enjoy it. Tell your friends and family to watch it. Post about it! Get it in view of as many people as possible. It deserves all the recognition and success possible, and I want the crew to feel incredibly proud of what they’ve created.

Sitting in my room after watching Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, I can’t help but think about my struggles with staying inspired as a creative striving to break into the animation industry. I don’t have any friends who are interested in the industry like me, so there is nothing keeping me motivated to keep creating art aside from my own willpower. And oftentimes, my insecurities get the best of me and I get discouraged. But rarely, a piece of media such as this comes along and reminds me why I’m doing this. Because I want to contribute to stories that impact people as strongly as animation has impacted me.

Go watch Puss in Boots. Please. We need more movies like this.

[dgaftilwedie]

using this as an excuse to infodump abt inferno and dew's relationship 🙄🙄🙄

ok so little backstory, dewdrop is inferno's mentor. i've said this a million times but when copia first decided this would even happen, the other ghouls were concerned that dew was going to be a shitty mentor because. i mean. he's dew. he likes being the center of attention, yknow?? even HE wasn't happy at first. but upon meeting the newly-summoned fire ghoul, something in him changed.

when copia first introduced the two, dew saw inferno and the anxiety in their eyes and his "UGH i can't believe *i* have to do this" exterior completely disappeared. they were shockingly meek, probably because they were terrified and had only been on the surface for a few days. dew immediately (both literally and physically) took inferno under his wing. im talkin he threw his arn around their shoulder and said "come on, let's go somewhere more... comfortable".

dewdrop ended up taking inferno to one of the balconies in the ministry and did his best to make them feel comfortable as they got to know each other. he offered them a drink, gave them the opportunity to talk about how they felt, and told them that he'd happily teach them everything he knew. inferno confessed that they were terrified for the upcoming tour; again, they had only been on the surface for a few days. the tour started the next month and not only did they feel unprepared, they felt very out of place because they were supposed to be dew's backup. unlike phantom and aurora, they felt like they didn't have a real place to be onstage yet and they were considering talking to copia about not participating and even going back to the pit.

dewdrop was immediately reminded of how he felt when he first transitioned to fire ghoul. despite the fact that he chose that path, he was still terrified to go out on stage (but he'd never admit that). ifrit was a good mentor to him - he filled dew with the self confidence he needed to actually go out on stage and play. it was in the moment that dew realized he wanted to be that for inferno. looking at how nervous and stressed they were as they opened up to him made it click in his head; he wanted to try to be everything ifrit was as a mentor for inferno.

he told them that he wanted them to be on stage with him, but if they weren't feeling up for performing or wanted to stick to the back doing backup vocals with aurora, he would be ok with that. dew spent a metric fuckton of time teaching inferno everything he knew and by the time inferno was excited. bouncing off the walls and giggling, grabbing dew's shirt just to tell then how happy they were that he convinced them to go on tour. inferno makes sure dew knows how much they appreciate his mentorship as often as possible; they wouldn't be where they were if it wasn't for him.

hey ghostblr i’m new in town. show me your ocs or im whacking him with the bug zapper

[free-pool-trash]

everything - peter maximoff

PART 2 TO DISAPPOINTMENT (you can read it on its own but it might be a tiny bit confusing)

hey guys, i missed peter and i hope this makes you guys feel better abt the first part of this fic <33

comments/reblogs/asks always appreciated <3

word count: 4k

warnings: angst, panic attack, fluff, probably some mistakes its 3:33am 😩✋🏻

summary: peter comes to your new reality <3

masterlist

His fingers drummed rapidly against the metal table located in the jet hanger, beneath the basketball court. Hank waited too, although, the beast was considerably calmer than Peter was at the moment.

“The radio has been quiet for like twenty minutes… do you think something went wrong?” Peter forced the words out in quick succession as he gnawed on his lips.

Hank sighed as that was the fourth time Peter had asked that question, every five minutes for the past twenty minutes- like clockwork, he’d asked Hank the same thing. The only varient was that the question started with, “It’s been five minutes...,” then, “It’s been ten minutes…,” to, “it’s been fifteen minutes…”

Hank understood that the boy was nervous, he was too, afterall Peter wasn’t the only one with a girlfriend on the uncharacteristically sketchy mission. However, if Peter asked him the same question one more time, he’d turn blue out of annoyance.

“Peter, I’m begging you to stop asking. They’re probably fine, the mutant’s energy surges probably just fried the radio,” Hank explained, trying to sound convincing for his and Peter’s peace of mind.

Peter gaped in response, “And that doesn’t worry you?”

Hank threw his head back with exhaustion and groaned, “Of course it does,” he started, running his hands down his face before continuing, “But stressing out about it isn’t going to do anyone any good. All we can do is wait for them to get back,” he finished, fixing Peter with a stern look as he’d began to bounce his knee relentlessly- annoyingly.

His fingers drumming faster than the human eye could see, his knee jolting at a similar speed, a feeling of unmistakable dread had started forming in the boy’s stomach, and no amount of finger tapping or knee bouncing could make it go away.

He had a feeling in his gut, one that he wouldn’t be able to back up with any type of logic or reason, but regardless, he had a feeling seated deep in the pit of his stomach that told him, extremely definitely, that something wasn’t right.

As best he could for the next hour and a half, Peter tried to stay quiet. Leaving the hanger to run laps around the basketball court; his attempt at exerting some nervous energy, his attempts were fruitless though as all he could focus on was that feeling in his bones that told him that you, his longtime girlfriend, were in danger. What only served to amplify his anxiety was the fact that if something terrible had indeed happened to you at the hands of the reality jumping mutant; there probably wasn’t much he could do to reverse it.

The conversation he’d shared with you last night rang through his head while he weighed up every possible outcome of your situation, and in conjunction; the situation he could possibly find himself in.

“So say your lovely girlfriend does get sent to an alternate reality… would you follow?” Within a second of your question, Peter had flipped your positions so that your back was against the mattress and the man in question was hovering on top of you with a cheeky grin.

“Sweet cheeks, I’d follow you anywhere.” He told you and you giggled at the stupid pet name before pulling him down to kiss you.

He meant it, he knew he meant it. Peter Maximoff had never been so sure of a fact in his entire existence; he’d follow you anywhere. His issue was that anywhere usually didn’t extend to alternate realities, but to him, if it meant rescuing you, he’d figure out a way to work out the kinks. Peter shook the thoughts from his head, he needed to be rational. You were probably fine, but yet again, he found last night's words echoing in his brain, the promise you’d made rattling around the confines of his head as violently as a screen door during a hurricane.

“Pete…” You whispered, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. “I’m gonna be okay. Raven and Charles will be with me the whole time, we’ll be in and out. I promise.”

When his heart began to beat out of control, he stopped running at lightning speed in favour of leaning against a thick tree adjacent to the basketball court. Aiming to steady his pulse he briefly closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. He thought about you; about how you’d play with his fingers to stop him from drumming them, how you’d cause any and all of his intrusive thoughts to be ejected from his mind when your lips would meet his in surprise kisses, or how you’d drape your arms around his shoulders and rest your cheek against his chest at random times. Those were the small interactions that brought him the greatest amount of serenity. Just as his heartbeat returned to its usual overactive pace, the jet you’d left on earlier was flying overhead.

Peter rushed back to the hanger, nervous energy at an all time high when the jet landed before him and Hank. Peter bounced on the heels of his feet as he waited for you to bound into his arms and pepper kisses all over his face. But that didn’t happen.

Peter’s heart dropped into that familiar pit in his stomach when Raven and Charles stepped out of the plane, looking crestfallen and solemn when their eyes met Peter’s wide, fear filled, brown eyes.

Before anyone could say a word, Peter sped into the plane, unfortunately confirming his suspicions; you weren’t there. Only a second later, the boy was back in his original spot in front of Charles and Raven.

“She better not be where I think she is right now or I swear to God, man-“ Peter began to threaten as Hank let out a shaky breath of disbelief.

“Peter,” Raven placed her hand on his shoulder when he looked like he was about to hyperventilate, Charles had yet to speak, no doubt trying to find an appropriate way to tell a young mutant that the only constant in his life, his only pacer, had been lost on a mission due to his negligence.

“Where is she? Tell me where she is, I’ll go get her I can be there in back in like five minutes just-“ Peter immediately rushed to speak, ignoring Hank’s confused gaze and Charles’ pained grimace.

“Slow down, bud,” Hank voiced when Peter neared the point of vibrating where he stood.

“The mutant, Galan, he said he’d bring her back, if, and only if, we complied with his demands,” Charles started to explain, grimacing again when Raven cut him off rather bluntly.

“But we can’t. His demands are insane.” She glared at Charles as she spoke, she believed that he shouldn’t have even brought up the option in front of Peter, there was absolutely no way they could accept the deranged mutant’s demands, Charles knew that, and Raven hadn’t wanted to give Peter false hope.

“So what?” Peter yelled, anger replacing nervousness. He’d warned them it was a bad idea. You’d warned them it was a bad idea. It could’ve been avoided. Had he been there, he could’ve saved you. “So what, she's just gone? My girl is just gone and what? I’m supposed to just be okay with it?” He seethed, his breath heavy while his chest heaved with rage.

When, after a moment, nobody spoke, Peter shook his head, “Come on you guys… you’re not seriously considering leaving her in some wacked out world all by herself, are you?” His voice sounded pleading, like a child, stripped raw and entirely vulnerable in a way that made them all wish they’d been more careful, hell, even Hank felt guilty and he hadn’t even been there. He, too, had been against the whole mission in the first place, actually.

“We’re really sorry, Peter,” was all Charles said before he exited the room, Raven stayed rooted in place though, at a loss for what to say or do next.

Peter swallowed thickly, his throat closing and his heart pumping at a rapid rate as tears welled in his eyes and oxygen seemed to disappear from his general area when the reality of the situation set in. You were gone, he’d get you back; even if it took him the rest of his life he’d get you back, but right in that moment, you were just gone. He hadn’t heard Hank’s and Raven’s “Woah!”s as the silver haired boy stumbled on his feet, his knees buckling before he had a chance to steady himself. Nor could he hear the gut wrenching rasps that left his mouth as he slipped into a panic attack that would surely result in him passing out.

“Peter,” Raven was in front of his face, but it wasn’t right- no, you were the one who talked him down, not Raven, it wasn’t right. “—you need to calm down, breath—“ her voice was distorted, as if he was hearing her from beneath a surface of water.

The older woman looked to Hank in desperation, he only furrowed his brow and gradually lowered Peter to the ground. He watched as the speedster rasped and muttered, he only managed to pick up a few words, his heart pulling with each one.

Hank rubbed a soothing hand up and down Peter’s back, while Raven prompted him to breath, eventually they managed to get through to the boy, though, Hank could tell it was more a matter of him having worn himself out.

“You’re alright,” Hank tried to soothe but Peter only whimpered.

He sniffled and met Hank’s gaze, hollowly and miserably, his lips quivering as her spoke in a desperate whisper, “I have to get her back, man. I just have to.”

*

The kettle screeched out a whistle from the kitchen, letting yourself and Wanda know the water was boiled, “I’ll get it,” you told her, you stood from the porch steps, squeezing Wanda’s shoulder on your way in as she gave you a grateful smile.

It’d been a few months since Wanda had sought you out after WestView broke down, you recalled the words she spoke fondly; “You don’t have to be alone. Remember what I said when we first met? We could help each other.”

Of course, you’d agreed to go on the run with her. And true enough, you’d both been extremely helpful to each other. She was a true friend and if nothing else, she was a bright light in the confused foreign world. As much as you adored Wanda, and as much as she adored you, neither of you were so naive as to think you weren’t still swamped in a pool of loneliness, craving for what you’d both respectively lost.

“Wands, was it peppermint you wanted?” You called from the kitchen, grinning slightly when she responded.

“Ya! With honey!” She yelled softly, “Please!”

Dutifully, you made the two cups of tea before returning to your spot next to Wanda on the steps, holding the hot cup between your hands and breathing in the minty steam. The scenery that surrounded you was gorgeous, nothing short of breathtaking. Rolling hills, huge lakes and flower fields that surrounded the cabin gave it the vibe of something plucked right from a storybook. If it was taking yours and Wanda’s story into consideration, you thought, it’d be one tragically dark storybook, but all the good classics were like that, you supposed.

Despite the eye catching backdrop, your mind was elsewhere today, more so than usual.

Wanda’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, “May I ask you something?”

Taking a sip from your tea you gave her an amused smile from over the rim of your ceramic cup, “Always.”

With that, Wanda turned her body to face you and you mirrored her action, then, she tilted her head curiously, “I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while, but I didn’t want to pry,” she began causing you to snort out a laugh.

“Never stopped you before,” Wanda rolled her eyes, but smiled, continuing to her actual inquiries.

“When we were in WestView, you woke up a few times, but only when the imposter acting as my brother was near you,” you let out a heavy sigh, which stopped her in her tracks. This conversation had been brewing for a while, you could see it in the way Wanda sometimes hesitated before bringing up certain topics.

“In my reality, I have a boyfriend. He’s my everything, really,” you told her, staring blankly out into the fields as you spoke, “We’ve been together since we broke his father out of a high security prison together in ‘73– did I ever tell you that our timelines are different?” You wondered, losing the thread of your thoughts as you recalled the most significant few days of your life that had transpired in 1973, when you and Peter were just eighteen. It was only five years ago for you, but in this reality, the 70s were more than forty years ago.

“You’ve mentioned it,” she reminded you and you nodded, clearing your throat and getting back to the explanation that Wanda was expecting.

“Well, he’s a mutant like me. He’s got super speed, like your Pietro. His birth name is actually Pietro but he hates it, had it changed to Peter when he moved to the states— kids used to pick on him for it,” you explained, laughing lightly, thinking about the way his nose would scrunch up cutely when you’d call him Pietro.

“That man in WestView… he was identical to my Peter and he had the mutation and… his last name is Maximoff so, I don’t know, I guess it made sense that he’d be playing your brother. When we met I thought nobody was ever going to come for me, then I saw him and I was so happy…” Wanda rested a gentle hand on your knee when your face grew mournful.

“I thought he’d come to save me, bring me home, you know? But it wasn’t him at all, just some guy called Ralph Bohner,” you shrugged with a small pout, attempting to diffuse the weight of the confession with a light, humourless chuckle, “Stupid name.”

Wanda fixed you with a genuine smile, “Tell me about him,” she promoted and you sighed, dreamily this time.

“He’s kind, and funny, he makes me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever known— seriously, I could be having the worst day of my life and all he’d have to do is look at me and everything would feel better,” Wanda’s smile widened, she understood, her Pietro had that effect on her too.

“He’s honest, he’s so good hearted but he can be so full of mischief sometimes, he’s a huge prankster back home,” you paused, biting back a smile for a second, then carried on, “He’s got killer taste in music, before we actually started dating he used to lend me his favourite vinyls and make me mixtapes… he used to write crap on the top of the cassettes with black sharpie, like, “kinda cool songs for a sorta cool girl” or, and this is my personal favourite, “songs that make me think of you”, he drew a little winky face so, naturally, I thought it was going to be super cute,” your own laughter cut you off, Wanda’s mingled with yours and she raised her eyebrows.

“And was it?” She asked, chuckling when you shook your head, your smile the widest she’d ever seen it. She couldn’t help but smile too, the more you told her about him, the more she realised he really was just the alternate version of her brother.

“The only song on the whole thing was ‘Let’s Get It On’ by Marvin Gaye!” Wanda threw her head back in laughter, your cheeks hurt from smiling but your heart felt lighter having spoken about the boy you love.

Once she’d stopped laughing, Wanda took you in before speaking the thing she’d been thinking about since you became friends, “You know, I think Pietro would’ve liked you very much,” she joined you in staring off into the fields, “Peter sounds a lot like him.”

“You’d like him, I think,” Wanda nudged her knee against hers and sipped her tea.

“I hope I get to meet him someday,” she stated, causing your tone to dampen ever so slightly as you agreed.

“I hope so too.”

*

Peter hadn’t slept in weeks, by now, the speedster was running on nothing but twinkies and redbull. He hadn’t gotten a chance to sleep really, he’d left the mansion almost two weeks ago on what he was calling a solo mission. By solo mission he meant; finding the mutant that sent you to another reality and asking him, politely, to just plop him wherever he sent you. He had no return plan, but he knew what the X-Men had planned, well, more specifically Erik. He was going to kill Galan, and if that happened that eliminated every chance Peter had of getting his soulmate back.

Peter made a choice the second he left the mansion, he’d rather be in an alternate reality with you than in this reality without you.

Besides, he was sick of his friends telling him he should “move on”, you’d only been gone six months and everyone was acting like waiting for you was a hopeless waste of time, it was driving him insane.

You were it for him, he wouldn’t move on for as long as he lived and he knew you felt the same, but, regardless of that, he wanted to find you sooner rather than later.

Your side of the bed didn’t smell like you anymore, your favourite blanket (which Peter had shoved in his rucksack that he brought with him) didn’t hold the same warmth as it did when you’d wrap it around his shoulders. To put things simply, missing you was eating him alive.

He was following leads to get to Galan and finally, in a dingy motel in some lesser known area of the south, Peter found him.

“You’re one of the X-Men aren't you? Here to agree to my terms? Took you long enough,” the mutant spoke lowly, his grumbling voice all the more intimidating in the dimly lit room.

Peter stood awkwardly, out of place, while the mutant stared at him expectantly, “Uh, no, actually,” Peter finally managed to choke out after a moment of silence.

Galan scoffed, “Look, like I told your buddies; I’m not bringing the girl back-“

Peter shook his head, cutting Galan off frantically, “I don’t need you to bring her back. I want you to send me to her,” Galan raised a scarred eyebrow at the young man in front of him, he looked like all hell, bags under his eyes so prominent they almost didn’t look real. He had something of a nervous quality about him, Galan thought.

“You’re Quicksilver, am I correct?” Peter simply nodded his head in confirmation and Galan rolled his shoulders, “I gotta admit, it’d be nice to get you out of my way.”

Peter looked at him pleadingly, “So? Will you send me to her?”

Galan nodded his head, there was no downside for him, really. “Don’t see why not. But humour me for a second, kid. What’s so special about this girl?” Galan asked, a smirk on his face that unnerved Peter.

Peter took in a deep breath and looked Galan straight in the eyes, “I love her, she’s sorta my other half. I’m a total loser without her,” Peter tried to sound aloof but his body language and pleading gaze weren’t fooling anyone.

Galan snorted out a laugh, muttering something along the lines of “Ah, young love” but that was the last thing Peter heard before the world around him faded away.

When he came to, all he knew was that he was freezing, which was saying something considering he was nearly always too warm. He jolted into a sitting position, darkness surrounded him and all he could smell was grass and a very faint smell of smoke coming from somewhere in the distance. After a few seconds, Peter’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and all he could gather was that he was somewhere very, very hilly. The noises of wild animals in the distance spurred Peter to get onto his feet and start running.

He ran for maybe one minute until he reached a cozy looking wood cabin. The lights were off but smoke still poured from the chimney.

Too cold and too exhausted to think too much, Peter walked up the porch steps and knocked three times on the door.

“Hey, uh, anyone home?” He called when nobody came to the door after a few minutes. Just as he was contemplating running away a girl he didn’t recognise opened the door. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open in shock, Peter wasn’t sure why.

“Come in,” she told him immediately, and again, Peter didn’t question it, the strawberry blonde led him to a sofa and motioned for him to sit down, with a flick of her hand the fire sparked to life and Peter let out a silent breath of relief. Whoever this girl was, she was a mutant like him. “I’ll be- I’ll be right back.”

Wanda practically ran into your room, shaking you awake roughly, a crazed smile on her face like a child on Christmas, “Y/n, wake up!”

You cracked your eyes open with a groan and hid your face against your pillow, “What?” You asked in a whine and Wanda would’ve been endeared by how much of a child you were when you were sleepy, had it not been for the love of your life sitting on your living room sofa.

“Just come on, will you? You’ll sleep better once you see this,” she prompted, you let out a weak groan but threw your duvet off your legs anyway, sluggishly following Wanda into the living room, your fuzzy socks helping you shuffle over the hardwood floors without needing to lift your feet off the ground too much.

“It’s like 3am, Wands, this better be—“ you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp immediately upon seeing him, “Peter?” You asked, this time you had to be sure.

His own eyes widened and before he could even consider giving you a verbal answer, you were completely encompassed by his arms, but that was all the answer you needed.

A choked sob left your lips as you wrapped your arms around him, his back shook and his tears were already soaking through your tee shirt, letting you know he was crying too.

“Y/n,” he muttered against you, pressing feverish kisses all over your face while he took in your appearance, “You’re okay?”

You nodded your head, eyes watery and smile shaky. Yours hands cupped his cheek, your thumbs brushing the tears away from under his tired eyes, “I’m okay.”

Peter’s eyes continued to rack over you, his fatigue catching up to him as your soft thumbs stroked his cheekbones, “When was the last time you slept, Pete?” A sleepy smile formed on his lips at the sound of your voice, he would never be able to articulate how deeply he’d missed you.

“S’been a few weeks,” he answered and your eyes widened.

With a sad smile, you placed a kiss on his cheek before taking both of his hands in your own, “C’mon, you need rest so you can answer all the questions I plan on asking you in the morning.”

Wanda, it seemed, had already slinked back to her own room.

Once you arrived in your bedroom, Peter shimmied out of his jeans before crawling into your warm bed and opening his arms, beckoning you in. You didn’t need any convincing, you happily crawled into bed and let Peter wrap his arms around you as you laid your cheek against his chest.

“I have so many things to say but I’m pretty sure I’m about to pass out,” Peter said softly, squeezing you against him as closely as possible, burying his nose in your hair and sighing gently.

As gently as you could, you leaned up and placed a tender kiss against his lips, “You can say everything you need to say when you wake up.”

“I love you,” Peter whispered, chasing your lips with his languidly, “You’re my everything, you know that?” Of course, you wouldn’t know how much weight the statement held just yet, that didn’t matter to Peter, though. He had you back, the other details didn’t seem so important anymore.

[shattersstar]

bluebelle

and if the devil was to ever see you, he’d kiss your eyes and repent (part one)

pairing: alucard x reader

excerpt: it seemed as if each corner of the castle held something of you; a bouquet of flowers you had picked for one of the halls in the east wing, a book you half read discarded in a barely used study, the faint flour fingerprints on the railing from when you made banana bread and had gotten so excited it turned out well you dragged Adrian into the kitchen despite the mess on your hands. The brush of your lips even lingered on his skin, the softness revered and remembered. It was warming to find all the parts of you in the tomb that had become his home yet again. (title comes from bluebelle by frank carter and the rattle snakes)

warnings: alucard being loved and appreciated, fluff, minimal angst

a/n: well I couldn’t work on requests till i got this out of my system. kinda stressed abt posting for castlevania bc i dont think? ive talked about it on here before? buuut i can’t stop thinking abt alucard after rewatching season two so here we are. anyways feedback is appreciated.

—

You weren’t by his side in the morning, the sun slotting from the vaulted windows cascaded a stream of warmth that didn’t touch your skin. He startled, fingers curling into the cool sheets. You’d been gone for a while and he hadn’t heard you leave, he—

Adrian had slept. Through the night.

That thought was almost as jarring as your lack of presence. He let his palms dig into his eyes, sliding out from under the covers and dressing quickly. His steps were always light, even against the old floors of the castle. You once mentioned you didn’t think he walked around the castle, merely hovered when you first moved in. Mostly because it was easy to find you, your step not nearly as cautious as his, your scent always lingering through the air, like a trail of crumbs.

Although now, it had become harder to find you because of it, it seemed as if each corner of the castle held something of you; a bouquet of flowers you had picked for one of the halls in the east wing, a book you half read discarded in a barely used study, the faint flour fingerprints on the railing from when you made banana bread and had gotten so excited it turned out well you dragged Adrian into the kitchen despite the mess on your hands.

The brush of your lips even lingered on his skin, the softness revered and remembered. It was warming to find all the parts of you in the tomb that had become his home yet again–but still, it made finding you down a bit more difficult.

He’d begun to rely on sound more, listening from the dragging of ladders around one of the many libraries, the boiling of the kettle or even your voice muttering nonsense to yourself. Sometimes singing, but once you realized he could hear it at great distances, your face burned hot and you only hummed absentmindedly these days.

Your love also reached great distances, bounding higher then the gothic walls you two dwelled in, tendrils of your affection brushing over him like calming waves, as if you somehow purposely emitted your feelings. A secret empath perhaps, humming with love and nudging at his scarred chest until he let you in.

He knew all of that was facetious, nearly musings to keep his thoughts on you as he made his way calmly through the labyrinth castle. You had called it that, still getting lost in it to this day and shouting for him when you’d get frustrated enough. You’d pout when Adrian would casually walk over to where you found yourself, nonchalant and even a little amused. Though, the spike in adrenaline that flowed through his system each time that happened contradicted his calm demeanour each time he approached. He always moved in a flurry, zigzagging and hunting through the daunting walls till he could locate you. He didn’t want you to worry, to see his first thoughts went to danger, he knew you wouldn’t be happy with that. He knew you’d stop calling for him if it meant his fear would take over, that you’d likely stay lost for a lot longer all for him.

It was a dangerous thing, the way you loved him.

He sometimes wished you had been together before his mother died, so that his love wasn’t weaponized against him. There was always going to be a fear attached to his love, everyone waiting for the day he’d break like his father, that his love for you would drive him mad and the cycle of destruction would repeat. It was destined to happen in so many minds, cycles were tricky like that, promoted to be broken, but never as easily as suggested.

That was until you made it easy. You pulled him to your chest and toyed with his hair, skin drying from the bath and voice speaking all the truths he needed to hear into existence. It seemed as if the path he was supposedly destined to be on crumbled before him. He didn’t actively choose to be different, be good, be better, there simply was never the option to be bad once he realized he loved you.

Even now, unable to find you, fear trickling into his stilled heart, there was no anger bruising his soul. The thought of losing you hurt, more than any adjective could place, but it’s a wallowing kind of hurt, the cold grief stricken kind that doesn’t ignite hellfire, but tears. Adrian hadn’t even realized his eyes were brimming with them until your voice carried, a small shout followed by a laugh. His head all, but snapped up, focusing on it and soon he was in the doorway, a sense of calm replacing the creeping anxiety as he found you atop a desk, trying to place a box onto one of the many shelves in this study. The study you had claimed as your own, in love with the large circular window that overlooked the forest instead of the crumbling estate. You didn’t fear the Belmont’s as many had, but rather didn’t find the appeal in staring at a pile of wreckage.

A huff of amusement echoed in the back of his throat when you’d said that casually over dinner, coming to regret the statement when it was passed onto Trevor the next time he visited. Amusement almost laced his mind now as he watched you for a moment, you shoved the box a few times, its contents rattling as you were just a bit too short to rest it securely. He contemplated offering his help, but sure calling attention to himself would startle you, the box likely to fall.

Instead he moved swiftly, behind you in a half a breath and reaching over your shoulders to push the box the rest of the way. You still startled, jumping with a small gasp, your arms dropping back down. You both stood there for a moment, your back rising and falling against his lean chest, his arm slipped to his side, fingers brushing yours as he did. You glanced over your shoulder at him as he climbed down from atop the desks surface. You smiled as he extended a hand to help you, palm face up. He guided you to step onto the chair before settling on the floor, fingers shifting to interlace with his as you pulled him close, chests bumping. “Good morning beloved.” You hummed.

“I believe it’s past noon.” He commented, earning an eye roll.

“Well then good afternoon.”

“No beloved?”

“You’re being quite the tease for someone who’s slept in—leaving me to my own devices this morning.”

“I can see that didn’t go too well.”

You feigned offence, both hands now in Adrian’s as you stepped back, a mix of a gasp and scoff falling from your lips.

“Someone’s in a mood.” He contemplated the statement, drawing you back in with a light pull in his direction. It used to be alarming how easy it was to get you close, how you didn’t shy away, how you were ready to feel him as long as he’d let you. Your chests bumped again, your hands sliding up his arms and around his neck. “And don’t say its because you woke up alone.”

“Hm.”

“Ah, I know you too well. That means you owe me a kiss.”

“It does?”

“Of course, my intelligence deserves a reward, no?” A grin flickered over his face, fangs flashing as he let his slender arms wrap around your frame, one hand resting between your shoulders blades—urging you even closer, your head tilted and lips meeting his slowly.

“Everything you do deserves a kiss.” He sighed, breath fanning over your face.

“Maybe I’ll hold you to that.”

“I don’t object.”

“Good.” You kissed him again, this time a little harder, a bit more than a greeting. Your fingers curled minimally in his hair, tongue swiping against his bottom lip, a silent ask of permission. He granted it with ease, tasting the berries on your tongue and inhaling the warmth of cinnamon radiating from you. Maybe you had been baking again, he wondered momentarily, lips still moving against yours. You pulled away first, chest rising and falling visibly as you let another smile warm over your features. He was almost a little dazed looking at you, barely noting the strands of hair that fell over his face, your fingers quick to tuck them back behind his ear. “Your hairs messy.” You commented, holding his face in your hands as you leaned back, taking him in. Your smile shifted into something curious, brows pulled inward as your gaze flickered across his face. You studied him, the gears in your brain churning out questions you already had the answer too. “Did you think I’d gone? When you woke up?”

You did know him, far too well.

“For a moment, yes.” He had learned it was better not to lie to you, to hide things at times, yes, but to outright lie left a bitter taste in his mouth (and you’d always figure it out anyways).

“Well I’m sorry for worrying you my love, if I had left the grounds I would’ve written a note, or woken you up even, but I didn’t think about doing that if I wasn’t far.” You explained, eyes full of sincerity. It was so human, something he mimicked, but never obtained in the same way you did.

He nodded at your words, forehead resting on yours.

“But is that not it?”

“What?” He recoiled slightly, unable to hide the surprise that found its way onto his face.

You did know him far too well that this had to be magic, you had to have read his mind and understood something deeper. He still found himself alarmed at this moment, your ability to read him surpassed even that of his mother.

“There’s something else isn’t there? You’re upset about something else.”

“I’m not upset—“

“Adrian,” You warned, his mouth snapped shut, “Please don’t lie to me.” He relented, his shoulders tight with defence dropped as your thumb brushed over the porcelain of his cheek. “But we can talk about this later. Okay?” You knew when to push and when to pull and when to give in to him just as he needed. You smiled up at him, nose nudging his affectionately. Love dripped through your words and danced in the corners of your eyes

Yes, later is fine. Right now he needed to be held.

You let your fingers slip into his hair, toying with it, nails kindly swirling against his skull. You were good at soothing him, words, actions, everything. It all calmed the choppy waters that stirred beneath his rib cage and he melted into you. Adrian let his eyes fall closed as you pulled him into a hug, one hand still tangled in his hair while the other wrapped as best it could almost the expanse of his shoulders. He let his arms hang limp, nose pressing into the side of your neck as he breathed you in. Taking in your scent, not where it hung in the stale castle air, how it lingered on door knobs to forgotten rooms you likely tried to open or dwelled on the various pots and pans.

He took you in from the source, your perfume and rainwater from the previous night washed over his senses, along with that still confusing note of cinnamon. Maybe he’d bring it up later, but for now he wanted to love in the safety of your arms.

[ayyyez]

could i request some headcanons abt friends with benefits relationship with kakashi but the baka develops feelings (I love this dork), thank you babyyy❤

a/n: I can honestly him starting a relationship this way because he tends to work differently in terms of relationships especially because of the trauma.  warnings: mentions of sexual content below the cut

It starts in the anbu probably when he is around 19-20. You would be someone he has know for a long time, some he can trust fully (maybe not with his heart but gotta start somewhere). That someone happens to be you, someone who is either in or understands the anbu.

It’s not planned or a deal you two really speak about. It happens one night after a mission. One of you didn’t want to be alone and the two of you end up going to your place. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. You always invited him over to be in each others company. 

There wasn’t always talking, most of the time when you two did talk it was about missions or teammates. It was usually because the two of you shared a similar opinion of things. But deep down he knew you had a much kinder heart, a more vulnerable acceptance of people. He on the other hand was full of walls. 

This particular night the two of you returned from a mission was stressful. The two of you hadn’t failed exactly but things had gone wrong and the outcome, though acceptable, wasn’t what either of you wanted.

You were mad, tired and stressed. Venting to Kakashi was exactly what you needed. He listened but also helped calm you down. You were going on a tangent about what should have happened and the next minute you were in his arms. And oh how you soothed his own frustrations at that moment. 

Then his forehead was pressed against yours. Eyes closed and taking in each others presence. It was you who moved first, hands coming to his cheeks. You didn’t dare move to remove his mask but rather run your fingers over his covered cheeks. Kakashi didn’t pull away. 

You hadn’t thought about Kakashi in that way before - being attracted to him like this but you realised you were always drawn to him and he to you. Taking your chances on this feeling you pressed a kiss to his masked lips.

He didn’t pull away or push forward. Instead, when you pulled away to gauge his reaction he quickly turned you around and pulled you against him. His arms wrapping around you, firmly. He held for a long time before easing his grasp a little. “Don’t look.” He whispered and you could hear the vulnerability. “I’ll get the lights.” You replied when he let you go. 

The first time you two slept together was slow and awkward. It was dark so you were blindly feeling and touching him. Then when you felt his lips on yours, you realised what exactly he had meant by not looking. He didn’t want to show you his face. And that made kissing him all the more intoxicating, the fact he allowed you to feel his unclothed lips was a big deal, even if he wouldn’t let you see them. 

Kakashi fumbled with the foreplay at first but redeemed himself quickly, your hand eagerly stroking him at the same time while the two of you kissed slowly. The moment he entered you was slow and gentle but his grip was desperate, his teeth nipping at your neck like he was hungry. Like he had been longing for this. 

Everything about your first night with Kakashi is desperate and longing. It marked the start of you two sharing a very different relationship. 

He avoids you for awhile after that, feeling regret for his part in it. He thinks it was a mistake on his part, mainly because he let his caring for you take over. He feels something but he buries it. 

And then he can’t avoid you anymore because you are apart of his life and it takes time but he returns to treating you how he did before it all happened. But it’s impossible on his side because the longing is there. The longing for you and your touch. 

He buries that feeling too but before he knows it its bubbling up against the surface and he can’t push these feelings back down. He needs you. He seeks you out like he always does. Your house at night. 

He doesn’t say anything other than, “can I come in?” and you can tell he is a bit of a mess. Without saying anything he just reaches for the light switch, stopping to look at you. He waits for your consent (a nod) and he switches it off.

It becomes a routine. He comes over, turns off the light and the two of you have sex. Sometimes it’s drawn out as he touches, feels and gropes every inch of your body. Other time it’s desperate, like he is trying to run from something. And then he’s not in control anymore so you have to take over. 

And it’s the first time in his life he has trusted someone enough to do it. To see such a vulnerable side of him - to touch him in such a way. It pushes him to breaking point, he can’t hide his feelings anymore. 

One night (unplanned) he comes to your house. And instead of going to the light switch he walks right up to you. He can’t look you in the eye. But you can see it the look on his face. He is so tormented by the battle raging inside him and he just needs you? Without looking up or saying anything he pulls down the mask and you see his face.

Thats your queue to reach out, gently caress his cheeks and kiss him. Kiss him hard and true, like your life depends on it and then he knows you feel the same way. 

[ironmandeficiency]

home

pairing: achilles (oc) / reader

word count: 2256

summary: sometimes a deviation from a simple routine can yield highly pleasant results.

req: May I request a short drabble (or whatever you feel like writing) for Achilles with 3 or 6 from the first prompt list? Thank you JJ, I love you - @roseofalderaan (3- smiling into a kiss, 6- chasing someone’s lips after they pull away)

a/n: i went with both bc both is good (and also bc this boy deserves all the love ever). read all abt him here!

“will that be all, commander?” you questioned. your workday was drawing to a close and you wanted nothing more to get your nightly escort home and wind down from yet another stressful day at the office. the nightly ritual had begun not long after you got this job and befriended the coruscant guard, some of them sticking a little closer to you during the day when possible.

but only one ever walked you home, claiming that the streets he worked to protect every day were no place for someone so… unsullied, he would say, guiding you home with a steady hand on your back and a smile hidden by his bucket. his soft laugh would bring yours bubbling to the surface like a simmering pot of homemade soup, nourishing your soul and leaving you full of joy and… something else.

thoughts of one of said guardsmen had you zoning out while fox was talking, very likely giving you another task to complete before the people you’d need to go to left for the night. you had spotted him over fox’s shoulder from where you stood several feet from him, having a gentle conversation with hearth and a few others. it made you so happy to see him bonding with his brothers this way, getting the attention and care he deserves from those closest to him.

fox notices the distracted, glazed look in your eyes and knows that you’re not hearing a single word he’s saying. looking over his shoulder, he’s quick to realize why: achilles. “that’ll be all,” fox assures you with a hand on your elbow before turning to take care of the task himself. he can give his younger brother this much happiness, what little bit he’s able to get. “get home safe.”

ever since he joined the guard, fox worried for achilles. he was too headstrong, had seen too much in so few years that he wasn’t going to let this assignment beat him into the submission that allowed many others to cope day to day. it would have made his life a little easier, fox believed, but it would have also made him believe he was unworthy of the joy found when with you.

when you’re dismissed, you make a beeline to where your trooper stood bucket in hand, a gentle smile gracing his lips. maker, he looked so young when he smiled. you’d do anything to keep that smile on his face. lacing your fingers with the hand not holding his bucket, you smile at him and his eyes are immediately caught by yours.

achilles was the first to speak, hand squeezing yours as he felt himself ascend to the stars when you smiled at him. “are you ready to go, cyar’ika?” hearth notices the way some of the weight rises from his vod’s shoulders when you’re nearby, the smile he wore a bit more genuine.

“i’m more than ready, ‘chilles. it’s been a long day and i’m ready to be home.” he nods and bids his knowing brothers a farewell for the next while. until you got to your front door, every iota of his attention would be devoted to you and only you; the way your bright smile alone could power galactic city, the sparkle in your eyes when he said something that brought out your laughter. he’d walk every kilometer of this planet if it meant he could keep seeing such unbridled joy radiate from you.

but these moments — these little pockets of time where he was someone more than who he really was, yet nobody significant all the same — would tide him over until the next one arrived with the same inevitability as waking in the mornings.

conversation was a swift river, flowing freely within its confines. there were things you both believed should never be said; they served as the riverbed, the bounds within which conversation flowed. everything else, the things you were allowed to say, were the water. they were powerful and clear in intention yet stayed within their bounds. the two of you floated along it with ease, letting the currents sway you however they willed. there was never anything to fight against, never with him.

he recounts the day’s most notable and happy events (a shiny’s codpiece detached while trying to rescue a tooka from the top of a vendor’s stall, and hearth was glitter-bombed when trying to give fox dinner) with his usual spark of animation, leaving out the darker events that always serve as reminders of his harsh reality. you don’t need to be tarnished by his sadness, the daily struggle he and his brothers face simply because of the circumstances of their existence. that wasn’t your fight to take up arms in, not your sadness to feel.

no, he couldn’t dim your light with his permeating darkness.

it’s why he still hasn’t kissed you the way his lips ached to, why his hands haven’t held your hips as he tasted your honeyed smile for the first time.

you told him of the menial tasks that had been made more than you bargained for when you stumbled onto two maintenance workers snogging in an elevator, the small muffin that was gifted by the commander of the 420th on his way to the office of his senator friend, and the way it paired well with your lunch. achilles hung onto every word and the way he could hear your smile in every syllable, saving it for lonely nights when he needed something to distract him from himself.

the thing about time is that when you don’t pay attention to it, it’s quick to make haste with its passing.

sooner than either of you would have enjoyed, the door to your apartment was in front of you, a beacon of home tinged with an afterglow of loneliness that seemed to never leave. yes, all of your belongings were here and your bed was housed within those walls, but none of those things made it a home. something was missing, but exactly what that something was had yet to be discovered.

his hand fell back to his side, the sight of your door a reset button to his decorum. your hand was colder without his in it, you noticed for the first time. you didn’t like knowing this and desperately yearned to get that warmth back immediately despite the fact you were walked to and from work by the man in front of you every day and it’d only be a few hours until you’d feel it again.

you couldn’t wait hours to hold his hand again, to be surrounded by his radiance in all its glory. in a bold move you never thought yourself capable of, you extended an invitation you’d mulled over for weeks.

“i’ll, uh, see you in the morning—”

“would you like to come in?”

achilles was stunned. why you would want to invite him into your home? this place was your sanctuary, your respite from the workday and from all expectations the world thrust upon you. he didn’t believe himself worthy of such an honor, but only a fool would look a gift blurrg in the mouth.

so he followed you inside slowly, eyes flicking around the entire space to drink up everything he could. this was an opportunity to know you better, to see you at your most comfortable. “welcome to my humble abode, make yourself at home.”

there was a soft-looking blanket draped across the back of your couch that he imagined you curling up under on cool nights spent watching holofilms. photos of you and your friends covered the walls, smiles bright and abundant. there was a bowl of fruit on the kitchen counter that he was eyeing and you were quick to notice how his attention was drawn to it. “you can have some, if you’d like. i have plenty to share.”

how were you so generous with what you had, being so willing to share everything you owned in this vast galaxy with a clone? better yet, how were you real?

a pink lady apple was snagged from its former resting place and relieved of a bite-sized chunk. achilles hummed in enjoyment of the sweet-tart flavor that invaded his mouth as he joined where you sat on the couch, hand patting the space beside you. he obliged and was able to wedge himself between you and the arm of the couch but only when he leaned a little closer to you than he would have ever dared to outside of this safe haven.

you two sat in almost-silence for a while (achilles was still enjoying his apple, after all), a small bit of his weight pressing cozily into your side with one arm resting on the back of the couch. to be honest, you weren’t sure what to do now that he was here. so much time had been devoted to how you’d get him inside that there was not even a vague idea as to what you were supposed to do now.

the armor he wore did nothing to ruin the coziness of the moment, still being able to enjoy his company and the comfort his presence brought you. it was a big reason you felt so safe when walking home (besides the fact he had a blaster and was very proficient in wielding it). his apple core was soon the only thing left and it was gingerly set upon the endtable beside the arm of the couch he was close to, but after that there was stoicity.

neither of you knew where to go from here.

you turned to face him to ask if he wanted to watch a holofilm the same time he turned to ask you whether he could have another apple and wow you’d never been that close to his face before.

achilles drank in the proximity like a parched man on tatooine, branding the image of your slightly blushing face into his retinas for later enjoyment. then you laughed softly and he was a goner, an honest to maker goner. he was going to say something, he swears he was, but it slipped his mind for the moment. you were too busy biting your bottom lip and letting your chin fall, depriving him of those eyes he saw every time he closed his.

he couldn’t have that.

his fingertips took your chin, lightly lifting it back to the angle it formerly was posed at, where he could see your eyes and the smile behind them. in turn, your eyes were flitting between his eyes and lips that you were positive weren’t that plump before… were they?

then he pulled your chin ever closer and closed the vast centimeters that had kept you apart.

you weren’t sure how your lips had been able to resist the magnetic pull of his for so long now that they were together. truthfully, you had no clue how you were going to pull apart now that you knew what they felt like against yours. it was sweet velvet bliss, the taste of him. the pink lady mingled with something else that you knew had to be all him and oh stars was it intoxicating.

pulling away? since when was that an option? if it hadn’t been one before, it became one when you needed to breathe again. his lips chased yours, desperate to keep the blessed point of contact that he’d never wanted with anyone before you. the intimacy had your mind spinning.

he liked it, he actually liked it. he genuinely enjoyed that kiss and was wanting to continue kissing you, and who were you to keep him waiting? the magnetism won yet again and as he pulled you into his arms, you could feel him smiling into the kiss and you smiled back just as lovesick as he did.

muscles were slowly beginning to notify you of a dull ache caused by an angle you were unused to. you ignored it until feigning ignorance was no longer an option. it was time to move.

leaving the living room was an olympic effort. what if the boat in your river grew holes the moment one of you rose from the couch? how would you save the boat and not get washed away by the current? the answer was simple: get a bigger boat.

armor was shed and sleepclothes changed into before you guided him to your bed where you opened the blankets up for him, beckoning him ever closer and into your waiting arms. any hesitance was nowhere to be found as he crawled into the bed and wrapped himself around you. once he was under, time was taken to find a comfortable way to sleep. comfort was found with surprising ease, like he had been climbing into this bed for eons instead of seconds.

the change in environment did nothing but allow you closer to each other, nothing being damaged like you had both feared. in your bed, under your blankets and on your pillows, he still tasted of the same pink ladies and honey and clove he did on your couch. he still held your face in one trained hand that had known little more than violence before you came into his life.

as you carded your fingers through his hair, his other hand being held tenderly to your lips with all the affection you could muster, the final piece came together. achilles was what your apartment was missing, the building turning into a home at long last.

[har-rison-s]

hot chocolate

anonymous asked: hi! i was wondering if you wrote stuff for ron weasley or if you only wrote for the twins? if you do write for ron could you do a fluff piece? it could be abt anything honestly

a/n: thanks for this lovely request. i’ve never really wrote for ron, he was sort of a side character in one of my abandoned stories, but i’d love to explore him, this is wonderful for that. he’s my favourite out of the trio (though i can never really choose, ofc), we both hate spiders and love chicken and eating in general hahahah i feel like we’re so alike. ANYWAY, here is something fluffy with ron:) i chose quite the cliché setting, but i think it’s nice. nothing much romantic, bcs ron is a brother to me and i’d be uncomfortable with that, i’m sorry. it’s still fluff:) stay safe, enjoy. happy reading!

fyi: not proof-read, definitely gonna edit later :) (also it's short, sorry)

main masterlist

warnings: none!

The fireplace, which seemed always ablaze, was warming the remaining Gryffindor students’s feet with its fire. The students weren’t great in number, they were five in total because most were done studying late and had gone to bed already. Ron was keeping Y/N company while she studied for a test tomorrow that she shared with Hermione. But the Granger girl had already, of course, studied for it, so she had no problem on the night before.

It wasn’t like Y/N was stressed out of her mind, she was quite calm about the test, she just needed to revision a few topics. There were books and notebooks and random pieces of parchment scattered across their table’s surface. Ron was leaned back in his chair, rereading a book on Quidditch History for (Y/N was sure) the thousandth time already. Y/N’s forehead was on her hand as she continued to make her conspect on the farthest planets known to wizards.

“How’s it gooooing?” Ron asked from his chair. Y/N lifts her head up momentarily as a smile tugs at her lips, and she sighs to herself.

“Just fine.” She said and then looked at Ron properly, locking her hands together before her on the pile of books. He looked at her through his forehead, sort of, but never menacingly, only curiously. “How many times did the Cannons win the League again?”

Ron chuckled and glanced back down to his book, though he knew the fact so well that he’d tell it to you without struggle if you woke him in the middle of the night. “Twenty-one, but only in 1892.” He said. “Which is the farthest planet from ours?”

Y/N smiled wide. “D’you want the muggle truth or our truth?” She asked, resting her chin in her hand. Ron grinned wide. “Saturn, for the muggles.” She said, then. “But Alastar for us.” Ron’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I think I knew a bloke called Alastar…” He admitted, scratching the back of his neck, he really looked like he was trying to remember. Y/N couldn’t figure out whether he was serious or not, and she chuckled. “D’you think the star’s named after ‘im?” She chuckled again.

“People are usually named after stars, not vice versa.” She pointed out. Ron leaned forward, his elbows on their table. He raised his eyebrows.

“But what if he discovered the planet?” He suggested and raised his index finger in the air. “Then it would be named after ‘im.”

Y/N smiled wide. “Wow, you’re better than my astronomy and history books.” She said, shaking her head and smiling wider with every second. Ron blushed and laughed and hung his big ginger head lower, not wanting her to see his blush. But she did, alright, and she had nothing to say about it other than that the blush was cute, to her, at least. But she didn’t care about anyone else. “That could be on the quiz.”

“What exactly? The question whether a star is named after a person or vice versa?” Ron precised and made her laugh again. He smiled. Y/N glanced down at her empty pink cup once her laughter had sort of died down, and she turned the cup around between her hands. “I think that needs refilling.”

She nodded at his empty orange cup with raised eyebrows, it was sitting next to hers. “Yours does, too.” She stated, and they both laughed again. They’re probably too tired, that’s why they’re laughing so frequently.

“Mine’s not empty, actually.” Ron said, lifting it up to his mouth. Y/N held her tongue with something to say right on the tip of it, and watched as Ron drank in the remaining of his hot chocolate. They both had got one for each from the kitchen before they came to their common room and started to study, and no wonder her cup was empty and his was—“Ah, it’s cold!” Ron retracted the cup and cringed expressively at what he’d drank. Cold hot chocolate was never pleasant, especially when you live somewhere with stone walls and floors, it gave you more chills. And especially when you’re tired and everything’s bound to get on your nerves. Y/N chuckled at his facial expression and took her pink cup between her hands. “Sure, laugh at my misery!” Ron complained, but she saw a smile tugging at his lips.

“Shall we go and get a refill?” She asked then, looking suggestively at Ron.

“What, now?”

“Yes, now, when else?”

Ron was hesitant. His voice quieted down to a whisper when he spoke, “I don’t think we should. Isn’t there a curfew or somethin’?”

Y/N shook her head. “There’s no curfew. And we’ll be quick, come on, everyone’s almost asleep, anyway.” She already rose to her feet, but Ron still sat in his chair. But she gave him her hand to motivate him to get up, and he did eventually.

“McGonagall’s gonna have our heads on sticks if she catches us.” Ron said as they walk through the common room’s entrance door. Y/N laughed quietly to herself, knowing how good the echo is in the Hogwarts castle, as she waited for Ron, her cup in hand.

“She won’t, trust me.” She assured him and took his hand again. Ron tried to match the speed of her feet that treaded so lightly on the stone steps of the moving stairs, and he started giggling after he’d almost fallen over. She hushed him and they continued their journey down to the kitchen.

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[unproduciblesmackdown]

some genius pt Musings i’ve been having this time around

1) the question of “is mytho’s hair white just from unknown decades of Time Passage within the paused story, like, his hair pigmentation Aged but nothing else lol” or “That, but his hair is white from the stress” (it’s that one lol. plus fr why would only his hair change due to Time) but i wanna introduce a Third Element: i think we can suppose in-the-story tutu’s appearance / disappearance happens just before or v shortly before the interrupted non-ending of prinz und rabe, and it sure seems like some or all or some Version of tutu’s Essence & part of the prince’s heart are like, truly Merged, and what if it’s that the prince got white hair from That b/c it was more swan-esque. a la the white feathery part of ahiru-tutu’s (& that one design of seemingly-prinz-und-rabe tutu)’s hair

2) again w/the matter of how at least part of Original Tutu seems to exist on in the prince’s physical heart: there’s the brief mention that fakir and mytho dance b/c Mytho Likes To Dance, which like, would be one of those Traits that transcends his emotions, like how he protects everything (so does tutu? emotionally? while the prince protects everyone physically (against a Metaphor for Despair so is that not also, in a way, emotionally too) like thank you power couple) but there’s also the brief mention that tutu is a Spirit Of Dance maybe so it’s like, again, did tutu becoming part of mytho pass something along in that way which imbues him with that proclivity to dance (although you’ve also got neko-sensei saying his dancing was not that Emotional earlier, which makes sense, but also seems like tutu protecting Feelings happens via dance. by “seems” i mean “this is a key aspect of literally every part of this series” s/o to me) or on another note: maybe drosselmeyer just wrote prinz und rabe For Adaptation lmfao. he was like “fuck yes they’re gonna make this into a ballet.” what with this series’ implication that like....the nutcracker is one of his stories where he just so happens to have a full self-insert who textually uses that power to make stories become reality. and that sure is a ballet. and from looking it up just now i’m learning that it was Based on a preexisting story, and, reading the wikipedia summary, i’m also remembering i’ve read an adapted-into-another-book version of this story, and it sure has another layer of “story interwoven with / becoming Reality” to it. anyways my point is i suppose, Watsonianly Speaking, prinz und rabe involving Ballet could’ve been Written Into It throughout all the characters, or maybe it’s just tutu who dances, which then becomes part of mytho’s character when her sacrifice like, bonds (part of? all? whomst can say) her to his heart. bless. doylean reason is this is a series about ballet and stuff

3) Another Briefly Mentioned thing when mytho talks about how he apparently could just naturally draw birds to him. and ahiru having that happen in the first episode/s is like, could be b/c she’s a bird or could be because she has part of the prince’s heart, as is emphasized like, immediately during the Bird Visit in ep 1. so i just had the thought like, a duck who cares about mytho gets to become tutu, but what if it was any other bird, surely it Could be. that fledgling canary he’s saving in episode 1 gets to become tutu mid-fall

4) i had some other Thought and i’ve forgotten it. well in the meantime thinking about how everyone dunks on Prinz Und Rabe Textual Lohengrin as the useless loser failure knight lmaooo but then like, that was just re: the One mentioned fatal raven encounter & also specifically about that lohengrin can’t protect the prince with his sword. but like, sure Behearted Mytho can probably exercise a little more discretion in risking his life to save whatever needs protecting, vs unsupervised heartless mytho diving out of windows, but can we really suppose he was That much more careful about staying safe vs impulsively throwing himself into a situation to save something at all costs. how much work did lohengrin do simply making sure the prince didn’t die in that sort of way. thank you lohengrin

5) oh right. i was thinking about Magic i think. s/o to the person who had the idea that when tutu sacrificed herself and turned into Light she might’ve merged with Good Magic in the story’s world, which the prince also had access to, and that’s how she kind of literally becomes part of him / they share powers / they share their Swan / Dance visual themes & stuff. & i was sure at one point wondering about the Forbidden But Granted Only To The Prince (own...?)-heart-shattering ability, like, maybe at some point an implicitly more specific verb was used like “taught,” or did the prince simply just Have the power by virtue of being the prince, or did it like, come from tutu who has the tie to the prince & Loved him & has those abilities to protect people’s Feelings, although maybe that’s just like, a choice and not inherently part of the magic lol. and then the Real World Magic we see is just like, inherited. but wait then there’s that bridge & ghosts & stuff, although there’s Stories about those too apparently. nvm this one’s really vague i’m just wondering if the Prince alone has that heartshattering Magic Technique through tutu or what. could be anything

6) but no really i think i had some other Thought, i’m sure it was great & ig i’ll reblog if it reoccurs to me, but i got distracted down another mental track so, you know, rip. in the meantime just thinking like, i have no imagination but was trying to muse on some sort of big Attack power the prince could have, b/c the classic thing to happen in the story (whether mentioned in its text or not) is for mytho to go ham with some such Power Surge [Magic Thing] to drive the raven away after lohengrin gets Got. even after he gets his full prince Abilities back he mostly only seems to Attack with his sword. damn wait a second and when he just like crashes Into the raven the big Swan Made Of Light appears first like hang on like is that Him? was it part of his Transport, can he like, Also turn into a swan of light or is it just how he Appears, was it tutu’s Hope Manifestation again since he’s being That to rue in that moment, oh my god. a lot to consider. anyways, but then the thing is, some sort of like Energy Blast move would go outside the realm of [fighting with the sword alone] and the prince’s Magic mostly seeming to be like, a mobility Boost, and how everything abt the prince is centered around Defense and Protection rather than going on the offensive. but then, who’s to say the Heart Shattering technique couldn’t be used as an Attack but was used by the prince only as a self-sacrificial protective thing, and who’s to say the prince Doesn’t have other powerful Attacks to draw from but refrains from using them if there’s others around to be hurt or whatever. i’m just trying to think of how the prince could just really go tf off and Immediately get the raven to fuck off after lohengrin is ko’d because that’s appropriately Tragically Dramatic & Emotion-Fueled Magic, not to mention the best case scenario vs still having to continue like 23 hours of battle when your boyfriend Just died. i mean like boom Light Blasts type situation i guess. or maybe he could just land a really good sword hit like Right Away. thinking about it. anyways

7) oh wait shit lmfao idk if this was The other thought but it was Another thought. that everyone in The Story (Within Reality) is like, locked in The Town (although they can leave if they’re not a Character / if they entered from outside? presumably) but in episode one this all kicks off b/c mytho was at The Lake which is Outside the town, right? i’m pretty sure. which like, is that something he Can and has been able to Do.....is this a. a liminal space. or did/does drosselmeyer like drop him over there sometimes For Some Reason, like having “stages” available around here, a la the s1 finale.....like, didn’t seem like he Knew if he put mytho in front of waterfowl that one would become devoted to restoring mytho’s heart. probably Does Not Matter, Actually, but it sure happened and much to Think about there. shoutout to mytho dancing en pointe whenever it’s magical and he can do so, e.g. when dancing naked on the surface of a liminal lake, or midair with tutu. iconic

8) the point is i’m sure just Thinking About Him (mytho)

[isabvllas]

         ♡ . *  (   jennie  kim,  cis  female,  she  /  her   )   have  you  heard   ?   it  seems  like  the  heir  of  the  MUN  dynasty  was  very  close  to  liam  yu  too.  they  go  by  ISABELLA  and  they  were  liam’s  FAMILY  FRIEND.  their  networth  is  of  82M  and  they’re  only  TWENTY-THREE  …  what  a  burden  it  must  be.  i  heard  they  can  be  very  COQUETTISH  and  VIVACIOUS.  but  these  last  few  months,  their  DISINGENUOUS  and  VAIN  personality  has  been  showing  more.  the  media  is  sure  having  a  field  day  with  them   !   i  hope  this  road  trip  with  friends  will  help  them.  did  you  know  that  CHEWING  BUBBLEGUM  AFTER  LUNCH,  WHISPERING  SECRETS  TO  A  LOVER,  CANDY  HEARTS  and  PILLOWS  STAINED  WITH  TEARS  really  show  their  true  persona   ?    maybe  liam  was  the  only  one  who  knew  that  ...   

         hi  everyone,  i’m  so  happy  to  be  here   !!!   my  name  is  diana,  i’m  twenty,  go  by  she  /  her  pronouns,  and  reside  in  the  est  timezone.  some  quick  facts  abt  me:  i’m  a  libra  and  girl  group  stan   !!   below  u  can  read  a  bit  abt  my  muse  isabella  hehe  if  u  like  this  post  i’ll  hit  u  up  for  plots   !!!   my  discord  is   missing blackpink hours#5522  if  u  wanna  message  me  there,  but  if  not,  im’s  work  just  fine  <3

♡ . *    𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔    !

full  name :  isabella  grace  mun

nickname(s)  :  bella,  isa  (  by  liam  only  )

age  :  twenty-three

zodiac  :  libra  sun,  scorpio  moon   (  click  )

sexuality  :  bisexual

alignment  :  chaotic  neutral

pinterest  :  click

♡ . *    𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅    !   (   drug  tw   )

keeping  up  appearances  has  always  been  the  mun  family’s  main  focus.  everything  they  do  is  an  attempt  to  better  their  public  image.  her  parents  marriage  was  merely  another  business  agreement  between  two  powerful  families

her  father’s  side  works  in  finance  and  investments,  while  her  mother’s  side  owns  one  of  the  wealthiest  PR  firms  in  the  world

her  parents  got  married  because  there  was  nothing  the  public  loved  more  than  family.  you  could  get  away  with  almost  anything  with  the  illusion  strong  family  values  under  your  belt.  isabella’s  conception  was  just  part  of  the  arrangement

her  mother  was  not  particularly  maternal.  her  husband  was  a  few  years  to  her  senior,  so  she  was  still  fairly  young  when  she  got  pregnant.  however,  they  had  already  been  married  for  two  years  and  a  baby  was  part  of  the  deal

isabella  was  passed  along  through  a  string  of  nannies.  none  of  them  stuck  around  long  enough  to  give  her  the  emotional  support  she  so  desperately  desired.  she  clung  to  adult  figures  throughout  the  majority  of  her  childhood,  from  boarding  school  teachers  to  private  tutors

as  she  grew  older,  however,  she  began  to  understand  the  way  of  things.  she  barely  spent  any  time  with  her  parents,  but  the  one  thing  she  learned  from  her  father  was  how  to  look  out  for  herself.  no  one  else  was  going  to  do  it  for  her

throughout  secondary  school,  she  perfected  the  art  of  getting  what  she  wants.  she’d  put  on  a  sweet,  helpless  act  to  manipulate  those  around  her.  she  became  fluent  in  lying,  and  it  always  worked  to  her  advantage  that  she  had  a  face  people  could  trust

she  spent  her  teen  years  growing  a  social  media  following,  becoming  a  beauty  influencer.  she  was  seen  as  an  it  girl,  credited  for  starting  various  fashion  trends

without  anyone  looking  after  her,  isabella  was  able  to  do  whatever  she  wanted.  however,  she  also  learned  from  her  parents  the  importance  of  maintaining  a  pristine  image.  so,  she  partied  and  had  her  fun  out  of  the  public  eye,  or  so  she  thought

at  seventeen,  isabella  had  her  first  coke  scandal  after  pictures  of  her  were  leaked  to  the  tabloids.  it  was  like  a  rich  kids  right  of  passage.  her  parents  were  furious  with  her.  for  a  moment,  isabella  felt  hopeful.  they  were  furious  because  they  cared,  right  ?  unfortunately  for  her,  it  wasn’t  because  of  what  she  was  doing.  they  were  only  angry  she  was  stupid  enough  to  get  caught

isabella’s  mother  took  care  of  cleaning  up  her  image.  after  all,  damage  control  is  what  she  knew  how  to  do  best.  isabella  was  forced  to  take  a  break  from  social  media.  according  to  the  statement  her  family  put  out,  she  was  under  a  lot  of  stress  from  running  a  social  media  empire  at  such  a  young  age.  as  per  her  mother’s  instructions,  her  social  media  blackout  lasted  a  year.  by  the  time  she  was  back  in  the  public  eye,  she  had  graduated  high  school  and  was  started  the  next  chapter  of  her  life

however,  the  year  she  took  away  from  social  media  was  the  most  time  she  had  ever  spent  with  her  parents.  she  was  forced  to  stay  with  them  so  they  could  keep  her  from  further  tarnishing  the  perfect  image  they  had  created  for  themselves.  during  this  time,  she  found  out  she  hated  her  parents.  they  were  cold,  and  completely  emotionless

she  felt  alone  most  of  the  time.  her  friends  were  almost  always  fake,  and  so  was  she.  she  was  always  putting  on  a  mask  too,  so  it’d  be  unfair  to  even  judge.  but  the  only  person  she  could  ever  trust  was  herself.  except  liam  was  different

she  knew  liam  her  whole  life  through  familial  connections,  but  she  only  got  closer  to  him  over  recent  years.  he  seemed  to  be  the  only  person  who  could  understand  her.  she  started  to  confide  in  him  with  a  lot  of  things.  he  made  her  feel  less  alone,  a  true  friend.  it  was  unlike  anything  she  had  ever  experienced  before  and  she  wasn’t  used  to  anyone  genuinely  caring.  he  would  let  her  sleepover  whenever  she  was  going  through  something

his  loss  hit  her  hard.  even  though  she  tries  to  appear  like  she’s  grieving  his  loss  healthily,  she  isn’t.  isabella  has  convinced  herself  she’s  cursed,  like  his  loss  was  her  fault  just  because  he  was  associated  to  her.  like  everything  she  touches  falls  apart.  she  kinda  started  using  drugs  again  more  heavily  because  of  everything,  where  before  she  mainly  only  used  in  social  settings

♡ . *    𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚    !

isabella  appears  to  be  an  extrovert  on  the  surface.  even  though  most  of  it  is  an  act,  she  has  a  lively  presence.  she  likes  to  be  the  life  of  the  party  and  the  center  of  attention,  but  when  it  comes  down  to  it,  it’s  just  part  of  the  persona  she  puts  on  for  others

she’s  playfully  flirty  with  almost  everyone.  it  started  as  a  way  to  manipulate  people,  but  she  also  finds  amusement  in  it  now.  to  her,  everything  life  is  a  game  and  she  wants  to  win

she  is  always  trying  to  manipulate  people  for  her  own  selfish  gain,  however,  she’s  extremely  careful  to  be  lowkey  about  it  so  no  one  really  knows.  she  appears  to  be  very  sincere  and  considerate  of  others.  most  people  view  her  as  harmless,  which  is  exactly  what  she  wants.  she  wants  people  to  underestimate  her

isabella  can  be  quite  full  of  herself.  she  obsesses  over  her  appearance  like  24/7  partially  due  to  her  social  media  presence.  she  won’t  leave  the  house  without  looking presentable  because  she  refuses  to  be  spotted  looking  bad

but  aside  from  obsessing  over  her  looks,  she  also  has  a  superiority  complex.  she  thinks  she’s  better  and  smarter  than  most  people,  but  she  doesn’t  show  this  side  of  herself  too  often

she  loves  to  go  out  and  be  in  the  presence  of  strangers.  she  feels  closer  to  them  than  to  the  people  she  actually  knows.  but  it’s  one  of  the  reasons  she  loves  parties  so  much.  asksjhkjsh  like  that  part  in  great  gatsby  where  that  girl  was  like  large  parties  are  much  more  intimate  !!!  that’s  bella 

her  life  is  ultimately  unfulfilling  tho,  because  the  way  she  masquerades  around  pretending  to  be  one  way  just  to  use  people  for  her  own  benefit  has  left  her  completely  alone.  she  seeks  real  friendships  and  relationships  deep  down,  but  she  does  everything  in  her  power  to  bury  this  side  of  herself.  she  also  seeks  validation  but  doesnt  care  enough  about  anyone’s  opinions  to  ever  receive  it

♡ . *    𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅  𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔    !

partner  in  crime  -  someone  who  she  can  scheme  with,  someone  who  will  play  these  little  games  with  her,  someone  she  has  fun  with

ex-lover  -  there  could  b  more  than  one  of  these   !!!    they  could  have  ended  on  bad  terms  or  good  terms,  still  have  lingering  feels  or  tension  maybe  they’re  friends  or  maybe  they  just  try  to  stay  away  from  each  other 

unrequited  crush  -  ur  muse  could  have  a  crush  on  her  and  maybe  she’s  oblivious  or  maybe  she  uses  it  to  her  advantage.  OR  we’d  have  to  plot  this  out  well  but  maybe  she  has  genuine  feelings  for  your  muse  and  doesn’t  know  what  to  do  about  it  because  this  never  really  happens

requited  feelings  -  speaks  for  itself,  but  our  muses  have  feelings  for  each  other.  ik  isabella  would  make  things  complicated  just  because  it  would  be  hard  for  her  to  accept  that  she  actually  cares  about  someone  that  isn’t  herself

will they,  won’t  they  -  there’s  tension  between  them,  but  nothing  has  ever  come  out  of  it  yet.  maybe  something  has  almost  happened,  maybe  they’ve  kissed  once,  but  either  way  the  tension  lingers  in  the  air  whenever  they’re  together

flirtationship  -  they  flirt  with  each  other  constantly,  but  nothing  has  ever  come  from  their  flirting.  maybe  they  have  good  chemistry,  but  haven't  done  anything  about  it  and  maybe  they  don’t  want  to.  maybe  they  don’t  want  to  ruin  a  good  thing 

current fling/friends  w  benefits -  someone  she  is  currently  seeing.  it’s  most  likely  no  strings  attached,  but  maybe  it’s  someone  she  genuinely  cares  about  as  a friend

enemies  w  benefits  -  imagine  the  tension   !!!   they  started  out  hating  each  other  but  ended  up  hooking  up.  maybe  it  was  a  one  time  thing,  or  maybe  they  can’t  stop  going  back  to  each  other.  maybe  they  keep  it  a  secret  and  don’t  want  anyone  else  to  know.  this  could  develop  in  soooo  many  ways  pls  this  is  so  sexy  !!!!

party  buddies  -  they  always  go  to  parties  together.  maybe  they  don’t  see  each  other  outside  of  parties,  maybe  they  met  at  a  party  and  started  hanging  out  more  afterwards

drug  /  alcohol  buddies  -  someone  she  gets  fucked  up  with.  maybe  they’re  not  that  close  when  they’re  sober,  but  are  way  closer  when  under  the  influence

ex-friends  -  someone  she  used  to  consider  a  close  friend,  but  they  had  a  falling  out  for  whatever  reason  n  maybe  they  strongly  dislike  each  other  now,  which  means  isabella  is  probably  trying  to  plot  their  down  fall

sibling-like friendship  -  someone  she  sees  like  a  sibling.  since  she’s  an  only  child,  i’d  love  a  friendship  that  feels  like  family

unlikely  friends  -  a  pair  you  wouldn't  imagine  would  be  friends,  but  for  whatever  reason,  they  get  along  well

cousins  -  they  could  get  along  well,  or  maybe  there’s  family  drama  that  makes  them  hate  each  other

take  care  -  someone  who  looks  after  her  when  she  drinks  to  much   !!!   someone  who  keeps  her  out  of  trouble  when  she’s  under  the  influence.  she  would  probably  feel  extremely  weird  like  when  she’s  sober  bc  someone  taking  care  of  her  ???  feels  fake  2  her

confidant  -  someone  who  confides  in  her  or  someone  she  confides  in,  or  they  confide  in  each  other.  they  don’t  necessarily  have  to  be  the  closest  friends  ever,  but  they  get  along  and  maybe  they  talk  more  in  private

rivals  -  they  don’t  like  each  other  for  whatever  reason,  which  we  can  plot. maybe  it’s  jealousy  or  their  personalities  just  clash,  but  for  whatever  reason  they  do  not  get  along

frenemies  -  they’re  great  friends  to  each  other’s  faces,  but  when  they’re  not  around  each  other,  they  act  questionably

bad  influence  -  someone  she  is  a  bad  influence  on.  maybe  she’s  manipulating  them,  or  just  encourages  them  to  do  bad  things  and  they  listen  to  her  for  whatever  reason

that’s  everything  !!!  i’m  soooo  sorry  this  got  a  lil  lengthy,  it  wasn’t  my  intention  but  also  idk  how  2  shut  up  AJKDSHDJH  anyway  i’m  so  excited  to  plot  with  u  all  and  start  interacting,  so  hit  me  up  on  discord  or  im’s  or  i’ll  come  to  u  <3

[nilealligator]

sometimes i find a lot of modern-day self-care style psychological beliefs to be ....... absurdly devoid of morality in their focus on self and individual well-being (to the detriment of others)

see below for an insight into my recent existential crises vvv warning not super organized

when i was telling ppl about how im worried abt one of my family members who i care about, i was stressing over how to help her, etc, i was advised by a few people that i can't do everything for her, that i should focus on me, etc. and like, sure to an extent that's true. but to another? i mean, why did nobody at all suggest that i should help her more? that i should try something different? that worrying about her is actually a good thing? and why is my question of "if not me, who?" so easily dismissed? why am i the only one asking that? why is it accepted by others that we may abandon someone, that small suffering on my part (which is dwarfed by hers) is more important than hers, that because i am in control of my own suffering in a way i am not hers (my suffering being caused by concern over and attempts to reduce hers) that i should focus on reducing mine rather than reducing hers, even if there could be a much greater net reduction in suffering for her than me since she's experiencing more.

or when i talk about how my grandmother is experiencing elder abuse by my mother who is caring for her and her many disabilities as she is becoming blind, the advice i get is mostly to just ignore it, move past it, "you can't fix it". and actually, the more i think the more i think i can fix it, i can at least do something, i have to at least do something, the more it disturbs me that the advice i get is mostly focused on how can i put it out of my mind rather than what are the creative ways or just different things i can do to help. i mean no one's even asked or tried to brainstorm ways to help her and that's just... i think such an awful reflection, how can that not even come up, how can it be that it's seen as entirely okay that the first reaction should be "how do you extricate yourself from having to help anyone else?" there is complete dismissal of the idea that i (or anyone) may have an ethical duty to help this person who is almost wholly unable to help herself. and frankly? that makes me p angry. like not necessarily with any one person who says this stuff but with... society as a whole, which is really human nature as a whole, just an existential sort of anger.

and i guess, the central conflict i've been torn over for probably the past 2.5+ years has been: what do we owe others, and what do we owe ourselves? what precisely is our moral duty? 

and i think at least from most of my associations everything has swung much too far towards the idea that we owe others very little to nothing and if we owe anyone anything it is ourselves, we owe ourselves a life of high pleasure and low suffering. the message basically that i get boils down to: if one can choose not to suffer, one should do so so long as you're not directly causing harm to others. indirectly causing harm or causing harm through inaction is seen as entirely morally permissible. in fact going out of your way to reduce suffering in others, when it causes you non-trivial suffering, is seen as a bad thing (even if the suffering you experience in doing so is significantly less than the impact it has)

i just find it really, really disturbing when the main advice of a lot of laypeople or even therapists is uncritically that we don't owe each other anything at all, that we should focus on us, that self-care comes before other-care almost always (exceptions for parents especially mothers of young children). i just think that’s so wrong. and at least for me if i engage in that i have such a deep sense of moral conflict that it honestly outweighs any "stress" that is relieved

and in some ways it really extends to this idea of health (esp “avoidable/preventable” conditions) and life. what are they? do some people deserve more of it than others? what level of jeopardizing your own health or life is okay in order to serve others, is required? and i really think of this if you think of how, among those who are heavily involved with social movements, there is often pressure from others or from the outside to stop or disengage, because this is hurting your career prospects, if you go to jail your life will be foreshortened (according to research, and it’s true), the stress of this will lead to an early death (also borne out in the research). but then, if you don’t, what’s the point? what’s the point of a long life where you play everything “safe” but never actually do anything? and why is your health and life any more valuable than that of anyone you’re trying to help? who gets to be healthy and how do we decide that? how could we all constantly strive for our maximal individual healthy life-years regardless of the impact it may have on others? it really makes you think of people living in poor working conditions with relatively low life expectancies to create products designed to have an incredibly marginal effect on the healthy-life-span of wealthy people who already have a much longer predicted lifespan

or like, if you look at (think dabrowski or frankl) the idea that suffering is an important part of development and morals-making or of "enlightenment", i mean it just doesn't follow for me that the main goal of therapy or help should primarily be to reduce suffering. but that's exactly how it is taken now. for me that stuff just brings me to a sort of existential despondence.

and i'll talk a lot about my guilt complex. and sure, an excess of guilt, guilt for guilt's sake, is no good and doesn't do shit. but i also think of how wealthy people will go into therapists, talk about how guilty they feel, and the therapist's reaction 99999999times:1 is "oh, guilt isn't a productive emotion, let's talk about how to reduce that guilt". and that reduction is never "give away your fucking money" (too simple! we're rich so of course smart and that means we need to use very complex methods to address our very complex emotional needs) but rather a discussion of self-acceptance, acceptance of poverty as something the rich person cannot alleviate wholly and therefore something that they should put out of their mind (read really anything on the psychology of the western wealthy and you will see this play out time after time, even in my discussions with wealthy people they relay the same info from their therapists)

or i dunno this feeds into how especially with our current reimbursement model the conduct of therapy can often really become focused on "how do we get this person 'well enough' to engage in work and being a cog for capital" in a way that is really, really gross and even if a therapist may in the short-term surface view of things improve their client's well-being what negative effects does it have on people as a whole, society as a whole?

as a final note i want to be really clear that just because i may care about reducing suffering of others, i'm not actually sure at all whether im more effective at it than anyone else or whether it's made me reduce more suffering in actuality than i would have otherwise, or whether any of us even has any sort of control at all, even in a small sense, of the suffering of others or control over anything at all. also not all of the examples and such are based on myself but also observation of the advice others get

[fmdalyssia]

HELLO Everyone! Alyssia is finally back! She’s one of my most tragic muses–ever, slightly revamped, with a bit of a new development to her completely – so for the most of you its a hello again with this beautifully tragic muse of mine ehehe. I’m excited to bring back to you Alyssia in her entirety, my inspiration for her came rushing in like raging waves of the sea after my exams, and in the process while she was away she developed a little bit more both backwards and forwards. Compared to before, Alyssia has completely taken two steps back instead of forward and recessed back into the person that she hates to be the most (her real self) due to some external…issues, so if any of you are really interested in her, below the cut is a little more tldr about her! If you’re interested in hitting this hot but tragic mess, please hit the LIKE button and I’ll slide slowly but surely into your dms! I can’t wait to let her develop and explore her further with everyone! 

♫ Profile ♫Biography ♫Personality ♫Connections ♫Trivia

COMPLETE TRIGGER WARNING 

Alyssia was born Park Da-hee to an alcoholic dad and a mother that died far too soon in her youth. Probably because of her dad’s alcoholism and her mother’s early death that it really led to Da-hee having the most tragic childhood and life ever–though not that she would ever tell that to anyone or blame them for it.

Her mother died when she was 4, so she has no memories of her mother, and her earliest memory is of her dad puking his guts out from an alcoholic night

Its said that she looks exactly like her mother in features, who was a very beautiful woman before her untimely demise

Lived in Jeju, situated in one of the poorest areas – her family is considered to be impoverished

Her childhood memories were never good, the sexual assault that her father did to her lasted for 12 long years, and she came away with more than just a little bruises 

Till now she doesn’t understand how people could have seen her and not noticed the signs of someone in desperate need of help and abused

Earliest period that she ran away was when she was 6 years old. A family friend found her and brought her back to her dad – and that night her father abused her for running away. 

12 years of abuse took a toll on her, and she learnt slowly to put on a perfect facade for herself in front of others, whether it be in school or not.

She had a lot of suitors throughout her schooling years, even her trainee years, lots of boys would come and give her flowers, because of how pretty she looked.

She really hated being given flowers, because somehow those flowers all seemed to die hours after she holds them, as though telling her that she’s not good enough to keep them as beautiful as they were.

She was scouted whilst singing one day by a scout – singing was always something that connoted pretty bad things and good things for her, partially because her father always demanded to hear her sing so that he could hear the fear in her voice shake, and the good – because she found that it was a good way for her to release all the tension and stress.

Being scouted on her birthday gave her hope, and Da-hee started to plan on running away to Seoul to audition. She had saved some money from working some odd jobs here and there, and a part time job that she forged her father’s signature for permission to. 

She researched BC for one entire night, before sneaking away in the dead of night, stealing all of the money that she knew her dad had, and just with her clothes on her back and a simple change of clothes in her bag.

She successfully audition into BC not because of her sweet voice (which would have blossomed if given more attention), but because of her visuals.

BC nearly dropped her amidst her trainee period, because Da-hee had so many psychological problems (ptsd, panic attacks, night terrors etc.) and most of all skinship problems and issues that they thought she wasn’t lucrative to keep.

They gave her one more chance, and determined to prove that she could stay on (so that she wouldn’t be sent home), Da-hee CREATED the stage persona ALYSSIA.

Alyssia is the more confident, sassy, sensual, quirky but enigmatic part of Da-hee that has been amplified and brought to the surface. Compared to Da-hee who shrinks back, Alyssia is the personality and persona that Da-hee has conditioned herself so much to believe that she sometimes can’t tell which she really is.

As Alyssia she can tolerate a lot of skinship with people, is open, laughs loudly (and a lot), has no issues with befriending people, lesser panic attacks etc.

The only people that would have seen Da-hee at her worst would be her BEE members, and even they don’t really know the cause behind why she’s like that (they could speculate, but she never confirmed why she had so many night terrors and panic attacks) [ BEE MEMBERS WE CAN PLOT HER TELLING THEM ABT HER PAST]

Da-hee is the completely opposite to Alyssia. She’s like a wounded animal that can’t stand on her own, like a broken glass haphazardly pieced together to form some semblance of sanity and respite. Baggy clothes, timid voice and flickering eyes, Da-hee usually resurfaces after her panic attacks and after she’s ran away from something that triggered her. She’s usually hiding in nooks and crannies, in the darkest spot and the most hidden spot of the current place that they’re in that she can find, and she hates people seeing her so broken and in pieces.

She’s very affectionate towards girls, and a little jittery towards males, though she seems to make more male friends (the irony)

To a lot of males she seems standoffish, but she really is trusting and gullible, because of the lack of affection (plot!). Alyssia usually finds herself in toxic relationships where she gives everything to the male and receives almost nothing but manipulation in return (connection!)

Her skin crawls everytime she finishes filming a music video, because of the sensual choreography and the looks of people when they film her dancing. When she gets nervous, she’s usually overly affectionate, so bear with her–

She’s an idol actress!! (that’s something new) :D BC decided to play on her visuals and sent her for acting, claiming that it would help her get out of her shell more easily. She’s currently working towards her newest acting project for a lead, and is pretty acclaimed in acting in her supporting roles.

She actually parties. Quite a lot. Aly found that partying helped her sometimes, as did alcohol, because she’d be too inebriated to feel too much. (people who party xD come to Aly)

She hates cigarette smoke, because it practically reminds her of her dad.(pls be careful around her when smoking, it triggers her sometimes, she also has cigarette burns scattered all over her body, so it's definitely triggering for her)

AS OF 2019, she has resigned happily with bc (doubt that happy thing lol) BUT another issue has occurred which made her recess a bit into her frightened self.

Her dad moved from Jeju to Seoul, and is currently blackmailing her with evidence of her past childhood abuse, threatening to reveal that she’s not that quirky, happy go lucky and pure Alyssia that most people know.

She’s been sending money to her dad ever since he got hold of her phone number, but the very fact that he’s here in Seoul completely terrifies her.

Current count for people who know that she’s being blackmailed? 0. She didn’t even tell her members nor her manager about this situation, and simply bore everything on her shoulders. [potential plot of others finding out about her being blackmailed hmu]

Congrats for tolerating the long winded intro! Here’s a happy Aly for you :3 

[feckyeswriting]

Simplify - an Eris Fic

For @nimadge

Thank you for being amazing and even more so thanks for giving me a bright spot during all the hectic busy-ness of moving <3

I loved getting to cover this prompt. I hope you enjoy how it all came together. I know you just had all your exams, so I wanted to make sure it wasn’t just 100% studying anxiety all over again ^^  

How about Eric and Tris, relationship OR good working relationship with the possibility of more at least; she sees HIM studying something for once (for qualification exam or smth) and can help?  How would that go?

Made me think abt how Eric would take help/how harsh he is on himself, that sort of thing.  We never see him learning anything, after all

Simplify

“Do you need anything?”

Such a simple question. I looked up from my piles of notes and the guide book I was currently attempting to force into perfect recall. Seeing Tris there, a small smile tucked behind her lips, tempered the irritation that had been building all afternoon. There was a lot there bubbling under the surface.

“I know you work best alone, but if you need anything - a drink, something from the caf - just let me know,” she said.

I did my best to wrangle my expression into a smile. Her offer made it easy. It was well past the end of her shift. Tris didn’t need to be hanging around Leadership on her off hours. It meant all the more to me that she had.

“Thanks,” I replied simply.

Tris kissed her fingertips, pressing the two of them to my nameplate on the door. “I’m down the hall with Kyle,” she said before departing.

I felt my face fall as she turned and walked away. There was nothing I’d like more than to have gotten up and followed her. Instead, I sighed and flipped to the next blank page to take more notes. Committing to memory the new SOPs for calls had been easier than this drivel.

Qualifications - or quals - were the bane of my existence. And as Leader I was expected to stay ahead of as many of them as I could. At least we got to spread them out between Leaders. Between us, we had to understand what the Faction was capable of.

Sharp shooting and marksmanship quals were a favorite of mine and many of my fellows. They were straightforward; a combination of muscle memory and specific math formulas let you pass with flying colors usually. I’d been happy with the other quals I’d passed over the past two years.

Then the dust-up in Leadership had changed things. Not to speak ill of the very necessary changes that took place, it was a total pain in the ass to have to cover for the things that Max and the others had learned over the years. I’d fought tooth and nail to remain in place, accepting as earnestly as possible my culpability for letting… everything happen without question. That meant not complaining about covering two quals at once.

So, here I was in my office trying to convince my tired brain that learning every in and out of neurochemistry was a reasonable use of my time and efforts. I’d avoided the quals for fear testing initially because dammit I’d left Erudite to get away from reading academic texts.

Fate has a funny way of ignoring what we want in life.

I ran my hands through my hair and flipped to the next chapter. There were still a few more hours until I had time to sleep.

Every time that I blinked now I could swear I saw the diagrams from my notes on the insides of my eyelids. Fuck, that would have made things a lot easier if they were there. Instead I stared at the practice test question in front of me and fumed.

Describe the basic concepts behind the signals used to target the amygdala.

My pen tapped a staccato rhythm on my knee. I wanted to snap it in half. This was the first long form answer I was expected to answer. I had known it was going to come up.

The amygdala was only part of the brain triggered by the fear serum. There was also the thalamus and… and… Well, there were more. More that didn’t matter for this question. But all I could think about now was the damn sensory thalamus. Emotional stimulus - that was the first part of the series of triggers in the process - leading to further systemic triggers.

“That’s what it’s fucking asking, you idiot,” I growled to myself. “What are those triggers in the fuckin’ amygdala.” Still, no matter how long I stared at my measly four word reply, the less I could recall about the process. It didn’t matter how the synaptic sequence depended on a particular balance of ion channels, either, but that was what my mind decided to offer up next.

The process begins with

The process begins with

The process begins with- with what?

I flipped back to the earlier questions. I had more ‘return to answer’ arrows on each page than I’d remembered making. On the question asking to order the sequence of signals used by the serum I’d only marked off the first and last steps. Blank spaces stared at me unhelpfully, offering no insight into whether or not it was a neurotransmitter dump or an artificial channel blocker that could have been used in the amygdala.

My pen went across the room. This was absolutely ridiculous.

Next to me, Tris finally stirred. She screwed up her eyes against the light from my side lamp, but she sat up. “You’re still taking that thing?” she murmured. “What time is it?”

“Late,” I said. I ignored her first question; I’d blown way past my initial expectation of how long this stupid practice test was going to take.

She rubbed at her eyes and leaned heavily on the headboard. “You need to take a break,” Tris said simply.

I looked down at all the little black arrows on the pages and those stupid, stupid four words with nothing after them. “I can’t. I’m not done yet,” I replied.

“It’s- that can’t be right. It’s four am?” she said. She’d caught a glimpse of the alarm clock down by the foot of the bed. It was there so we couldn’t just slam the snooze button without moving. I’d been selectively ignoring it all evening. Well, morning now.

I sighed. Tris shifted again next to me, returning to rest her head on the pillow. She still faced me now. One hand emerged from the blanket again so she could run the side of her finger down my arm. She could only reach so far before starting back down again.

“You’re going to be exhausted,” Tris murmured. “Can you ask Lauren for her answers from this one? To study from?”

“Mm. Maybe.” Lauren had passed this qual the winter after her Initiation. She’d only had a few weeks to study for it. Had only needed a few weeks to. I’d been working on this every god damn night and weekend for the past three months.

And I still couldn’t answer a fucking obvious, critical question.

“Hey, hey,” Tris said. I looked down at my hands. I’d crumpled the pages in front of me between white knuckled fists. Tris’ hand wrapped around my wrist. It was the best she could manage from her angle. “It’s going to be alright,” she insisted.

“It will be when this is over,” I hissed. “If I pass.” Good fucking god, there were only three days left. Two nights of studying, really. I’d only have a few hours on the morning of to try and force any more info into recall.

I laughed bitterly. “I might not pass,” I repeated. “Wouldn’t that be rich? Paid so much attention to the fear sims, and I can’t explain them worth a damn for these stupid quals. Fear is what gets you kicked out of Dauntless. Never thought that’d be me, but here we are.”

Tris threw the blanket off. It took most of my papers with it, crumpled pages spilling everywhere at the foot of the bed. She sat up fully. Forced me to look at her instead.

“Eric,” she said, “what would you tell me if I was doing this?”

It wouldn’t work. I crossed my arms over my chest and scoffed. “Usually your problem is that you’re overreacting. And I’m not,” I insisted.

“Bullshit,” Tris retorted. I scoffed again. She wasn’t the one unable to answer a goddamn multiple choice question on what should have been a mid-level biology question.

She mirrored my crossed arms. “Bull. Shit. You’re overreacting and stressing about not knowing shit. So you’re just getting more and more stressed as you get more and more stuff not quite right,” she said.

“Not quite right is wrong. And wrong means failing quals,” I spat.

I don’t know if she heard the nerves in my voice then or if she just had to think another minute for a new plan of attack, but after a moment she said, “You have two more full days.”

Two days. My stomach flipped and I snapped my eyes shut. “Don’t remind me.”

She didn’t quit. “You have two more full days,” Tris insisted. “That’s plenty of time. You’ve got the core information down; you have to by now after all this cramming and all these weekends buried in that book. It’s just perfecting recall.”

I made a noise. I felt her prodding at my knees until I relented and stretched my legs back out on the mattress. Tris dropped onto my lap with all the grace of a newborn foal - all legs and flailing hooves, sorry, palms. I opened one eye as she wrapped her arms loosely around my neck.

“I’m not moving these,” I muttered, wiggling one arm.

“Sure you’re not,” she replied. Resting her forehead on mine, she forced me to look at her.

Her voice got soft. “I know you’re stressed. And you’ve every right to be worried about the test. They’re fucking hard,” she said. I almost laughed. Almost.

Tris continued on. One of her thumbs stroked along the skin of my neck. “But I’m here to tell you: you’re going to be okay. It’s all going to be fine. Two days is plenty of time. I know it will be,” she said quietly.

I closed my eyes again. Nodding my head, I hummed in acknowledgement. “Mkay,” I said. I pressed a kiss to her lips. Saying thank you seemed like not enough. I did it anyways.

“You don’t need to thank me. Like I said, if you need anything you just have to ask me,” she murmured. We shifted together and she moved to lay on top of me. I had to kick to get the blanket back up to us. That sleepy smile returned to her face when I pulled it over her shoulders again.

I looked one last time at the pages still down by my feet. Tris poked my side, reading my mind. “Turn off the light,” she grunted. “Sleep now. Study later.”

Kissing the top of her head, I clicked the lamp off. She snuggled tighter to my chest.

It’s the simple things.