#and she ALSO has no social skills but in different ways AND a lot of Trauma™ that gives her Sore Spots he's good at unintentionally hitting

[falling-star-cygnus]

a great scene in DBDA is when Crystal and Edwin are arguing about Crystal ~maybe~ living in a place with serial killers and Charles is just- so tired of them that he flops down on her bed -> like full on gives up on his afterlife, and just lays there before Crystal even has a chance

Oh Dear {ao3 fic link} SUMMARY: In which, Crystal and Edwin bond through bickering and snapping their teeth at each other- as they always have. Charles is having a hard time adjusting to it.

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Niko had excellent comprehension skills.

All of her teachers had said so, back when she still went to school, at least. And, of course, that whole situation with the Night Nurse's guide book. Rule book?

Hm..

Maybe it was something else entirely... like.. a compacted case file, but for whoever was currently relevant? That would be cool.

Supernatural mystery stationary aside, her highest marks had always been in her reading and social classes. How her social classes were easier than actually socializing, though, was beyond her...

That was something she never quite managed to figure out, regrettably.

Except now.. well... now she had Crystal and Edwin. And suddenly she had people to talk to. Who would listen and talk back.

She had Charles obviously, too, but Niko was pretty sure he could make friends with a rock if he wanted to.

He had made friends with a rock. One that sat proudly on her shelf, because now it was her friend too- he'd said. The seaglass he had spent hours on the beach looking for [for her] sparkles right next to it.

He had called her Neeks when he handed it over.

Niko kinda thinks everyone should have a Charles Rowland. But he was undoubtedly a package deal with an Edwin Payne.

And, unfortunately for everybody, she was just this side of selfish to want them both for herself. Plus Crystal. Niko wanted her all to herself too- differently, in some way she can't quite put a name to yet.

But back to her original point- Niko was very good at overanalyzing people. Basically.

So she knew, deep down, that these little spats she'd found herself in the presence of were just that. Little spats.

They didn't mean anything, not really. Sometimes it actually helped them come to a decision faster than just talking it out nicely. No stones were thrown, no words the other couldn't take back, but... a ball tossed back and forth.

'Gentle' wasn't the right word for it. However, neither was 'cruel'.

At some point, it had just become background noise for her to read through.

Even now, as Niko climbed the stairs to her room, she could hear the two hissing and spitting at each other like alley cats... er- ...or maybe that was tasteless comparison..

She thinks on it- reaching up on her tippy toes to get the key for her door.

Maybe like... a dog and a cat? No. If anybody was a dog between the quartet, it was probably Charles. One of those really gentle ones.

Hm... likeee cats and mice? No, that was still feline.. and the two were typically on even sparring grounds.

Huh.

Cats really had beef with everyone.

Her next comparison, away from the rivalries of animals, would've been an old married couple... but the more she thinks about it the more it wouldn't work. It'd have to be a lavender marriage for one.

She keeps thinking on it as their bickering pitches louder. Maybe they were more like Litty and Kingham? If Litty and Kingham hated each other instead of everyone around them.

To be fair, they were trapped in a jar. Niko would probably hate everybody around her too. Or at the very least she'd be very, very annoyed.

Her door opens after a few seconds of aimless prodding.

She'd never really been good at these stick and poke locks either.

One expects a lot of things when entering what's, essentially, their safe space. Their room. A bed, pillows, trinkets of their favorite things. Et cetera.

What she gets is all of that, of course. Not a stitch or bauble out of place.

But she also gets one, very agitated ghost.

Charles Rowland, with his princely name, is sitting at the foot of her bed. Not on it, but on the floor in front of it- woefully only looking a handful of seconds away from raising his head and thumping it back down onto his bony knees.

Oh dear.

"Charles?" Niko tries, carefully placing her bag down, "Is everything okay?"

She didn't exactly mind that he came into her room while she was out, but it was still unexpected. Worrying.

He doesn't look like he wants to answer, huddled into himself as he is- with bruises started to spot on the bits of skin she can see. A whoosh of unneeded [but most likely comforting] meets her instead.

It's quiet as she crouches down in front of him.

"...they've been going at it," he eventually starts, and oh, "..for three hours."

Charles sounds so tired.

Niko sees him raise his head and takes the opportunity to balance herself, placing her hands gently on his knees and placing a barrier if need be.

He's so cold. Kinda fuzzy too, and a little damp. Like touching a cotton ball that's been left in the fridge.

Overall unpleasant when push came to shove, but she'd touched worse things to keep her friends safe. This wasn't any different- even if the danger was a ghostly headache.

"I'm sorry," she says softly, because though she knows their bickering comes from a place of affection... Charles.. wouldn't.

Or- he would. He knows Edwin better than anybody, after all. But the connotations of harsh words, of snappy tones, are hard to overwrite.

"Why're you sorry, Neeks?" her ghost friend asks, just if not more softly as a sad smile- a fake smile- affixes to his face, "S'not your fault, now is it?"

And the consequences. even if they would never happen again, were even harder to ignore. Charles shifts underneath her hands- undoubtedly to slink away to lick his wounds alone.

"I'll get out of your room-"

"No-!"

It's not hard to keep her voice soft, even as it fills with urgency and near panic, but it's a close thing. She just-

"I don't think you should be alone right now.." Niko amends, hoping her touch will tether him to just a little more corporeality, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Somehow deep down, somewhere in her bones, she already knows the answer.

"There's nothing to talk about," he tells her, slipping into painfully faux cheer, "I'm just-"

"Feeling a lot."

Niko couldn't bear it if she let him finish- if she let him say something like 'being sensitive' or some meaner variation like it was a bad thing.

She thinks she might cry.

Charles just blinks at her, with his wide sweet eyes, "..yeah."

"That's okay," she says, and unbiddenly her hands start tapping softly like Charles' knees were bongos, "I feel a lot too."

They've never actually been this close before, and now she's privy to a first row view of all those small freckles painting his cheeks and nose. They're small things- barely there things you wouldn't see from a decent talking distance- but they're there.

"Do you want to watch something with me?" she tries again, if only because staring was rude.

They don't have to talk, not yet, not if the arguing is only going to get louder. Edwin and Crystal can practically be heard word for word through the wall- every other snarl in HD audio.

Charles gets even colder under her palms.

So Niko does what she thinks is best- and it's probably driven by the same instinct that made her run halfway around the world. She covers his ears.

And not a moment too soon, either, because a thud echoes in the next second. A thud and then silence.

Like it might finally be over, might finally be time for damage control instead of just damage.

"Good going, Edwin." "You bumped it off the table!"

And there they are.

Niko kinda wants to throw something at the wall- just to see if it will get them to stop for a second. But her hands are full of a ghost that nearly drowned- a ghost that's trembling under hands that are trying to be gentle.

Alright.. okay.

Slowly, so so so slowly, she manouvers them until they're sitting side by side- until she can pillow her friend nice and cozy into her collar and try and hug warmth back into his nonexistant bones. His knees dig into her thigh like this, but that's okay.

That's okay, because that means she made him a little more corporeal, and that means she's helping. On some level.

"Why didn't you go out? Instead of- of.." she tries to ask her friend, with her fragile heart aching, "I wouldn't've minded if you came to find me."

The answer is right there in front of her, so close it's practically on her tongue.

"I thought about it," Charles tells her, quietly, "About taking a walk while they hashed it out."

Niko braces herself, "But..?"

Charles shakes his head against her shoulder, his eyes tightly clenched shut.

"...did you think they'd-?"

"No- no, Neeks, I... I just- I..."

There's something especially cruel in the way his voice cracks- in the way he still tries to protect them, even if it's from his own trauma. His own pain.

"They wouldn't hurt each other."

It's not a reproach, but a quiet reassurance. Crystal and Edwin were verbally volatile when you threw them together, but they did care.

"....but what if they did," and there it is, the thumb pushing on her peach heart breaking through fuzzy skin, "-what if they did, and I- I couldn't stop them in time?"

The confession is whispered into the soft fabric of her sweater, a broken thing.

Niko clutches him closer, "It wouldn't be your fault."

This was horrifying, and it turned her insides to think maybe the kindest boy she'd ever known had forced himself to listen to his two closest friends tear into each other.

Because he couldn't risk them hurting each other, even if it hurt him.

"But-"

"It wouldn't."

Never, ever, ever would it be his fault. The arguing, which had dipped to sporadic half-hearted comebacks, suddenly sparks anew.

But now, Niko's officially had enough. She stomps her still shoed foot into the ground- the one farthest from the ghost she's cuddling. He still jumps.

"WILL YOU TWO CUT IT OUT ALREADY!?"

And then, blissfully, it's silent. Edwin and Crystal don't make another peep for several long seconds- which is just enough time for Charles to whisper 'What are you doing!?' like she was out of her mind.

"...sorry, Niko.." "Apologies, Niko."

It's not me you should apologize to, her mind huffs and then she feels bad for thinking something so nasty. Even if Charles does deserve one.

"...I didn't know you could talk that loud," he says to her, low like he was scared of being overheard.

Which... made sense. It seemed like it was an instinctual reaction with him.. to deal with things all by himself and bury them in his good heart. Hm..

...she's going to do it.

"Edwin," she calls out, futilely grasping onto Charles like she could stop him from running away.

"Niko!"

"He would want to know he's hurting you!"

"Edwin would never hurt-!"

"I would never what?" said ghost cuts in, and oh. Maybe she should've thought about how telling their position might've looked. How fast she'd have to be.

She had a lapful of quietly crying ghost- who finally seems to remember he's a ghost and phases through her arms- and who gets to his feet in an instant.

"Nothing-" he tries to throw out hastily, keeping his back to his best friend and scrubbing at his face.

Niko had to be fast.

"Charles doesn't like it when you and Crystal fight, I found him curled up in my room when I came in."

They both freeze. Her door creaks open, as Crystal peeks in- almost equally gobsmacked. It kinda feels like Niko had just thrown a live grenade into a dry field.

It's quiet.

And then it's not.

"Charles," Edwin chokes out, catching his arm with gentle fingers, "Charles, I'm so sorry- Is that true?"

Well, isn't that a far more heartfelt apology than what she got- even if he needs to ask for confirmation. Not that she's bitter about it, in fact it's really sweet. Like some of her manga protagonists...

..wait a second-

"It's not a big deal," the curly haired ghost tries to reassure, to deflect, "I swear- I was just- you know, I'm-"

Focus, Niko, "He was crying!"

"Niko!" he tries to scold her again, but his voice cracks again.

It's like she can see Edwin's heart physically break in real time.

And she can't, she just can't, let Charles deal with his pain all alone anymore. Sometimes you just have to meddle for the people you care about to be okay.

Really.. she could only hope he wouldn't be too mad at her, when all the chips fell.

It would be okay, though, if he was. Because he would be okay, and he would be there.

And that was enough.

[esote-rika]

lose some, win some | Spencer Reid Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: Hurt/Comfort, Smut 18+, MDNI Summary: COLLEGE AU! When your debate team loses the national championship, you and Spencer return to your shared room and find a productive way to take out your frustrations. Content: Waldorf!Reader is a sore loser, lots of dialogue in the beginning, Sassy!Spencer, some talk of misogyny, Spencer makes up for it by being a munch (so f receiving oral), virgin!Spencer but he’s also a little shit, they are both little shits but it’s cute I swear, handjob, raw p in v but reader mentions she is on the pill, creampies, multiple orgasms for both of them (they’re frustrated and horny give them a break) Word count: 4.8k (it's porn with a plot for once) A/N: Not really frenemies or rivals, they’re just really angry young adults. Idk what Spencer’s actual age was in college, but he studied several times so for this fic, he’s on his third degree and is 21. If the debate stuff is incorrect, I'm sorry. I did do some research but there's so many different rules and styles lmfao. My friend who competes says it’s fine and understandable so :) also massive thanks to @just-call-me-by-yn @mggslover and @notlongtolove for helping me brainstorm and @wheresmacoffee because she was there JK  ILY ANDY their banter during the filthy part is for you <3.

Spencer Reid doesn’t particularly care about the prestige that comes with winning. Most people crave it for the validation, or because it’s another impressive thing they can slap onto their resumes, but being a genius his entire life allows him not to worry about that. His academics speak for themselves. He doesn’t need to pad it with extracurriculars. Instead, he enjoys the skills that are honed from debate—learning to listen to arguments, finding the perfect way to rebut, memorization and reviewing with like minded individuals. The university team is a well oiled machine composed of four people— him on his third degree, two other male juniors, and you, the only woman.

Over the span of two semesters, he’s memorized the quirks of his teammates. It’s essential to building rapport, after all, and he’s eager to get something good out of this. Something less academic, and more social. Friends, perhaps. While he’s formed a bond with the other members, you have always been an enigma. Stoic and ambitious, you remind him of a statue. Cold and oh so beautiful. You’ve often kept to yourself. And after several rejected attempts at friendship, he’s learned to just observe from afar.

He knows from experience that observing allows you deep insight into people, and so he knows after two semesters that you’re perhaps the most competitive out of the entire team, the most hungry for a win. This drive, he suspects, comes from a deeply rooted desire to prove yourself, though he’s unsure why. What else do you have to prove? You have everything, as far as he’s concerned. Keenly intelligent, beautiful, with a circle of friends that adore you. You aren’t like him, who has to sink his claws deep into this debate team in order to get a dose of social interaction. No, you have a life, no matter how marblesque you may seem.

And yet, somehow it’s still not enough for you.

He thinks it’s utterly ridiculous, and absolutely fascinating.

The weekend of nationals is taxing. You’ve been fighting for the opener role since the semis, but it would require too much adjustment, which no one is willing to risk so close to nationals. Not only does he not want to give up his spot, he also knows how ruthless you can be as a rebuttal speaker. He's meek, and you have a tendency to be aggressive, it's why the original roles go so well. 

Your adviser agreed, and there’s been tension ever since. 

To make matters worse, hotel arrangements somehow have placed both of you in the same room. The force of your resentment is palpable even to a normally clueless guy like him. Distracting. Pages being turned in your exaggerated annoyance. He’d complain of dramatics, but he doesn’t want to start anything. 

The fact that you’re rooming together also doesn’t help him. Sure, there are different beds, small twin mattresses on either side of the room, but still. Proximity to a woman his age has him anxious for reasons entirely unrelated to nationals. 

So when you lose the championship, his concern for your reaction behind doors overwhelms the regret of losing. 

No one is happy with the results. It is obvious from the set of his jaw, the tenseness of your shoulders. Spencer tries to calm down, accept defeat with a modicum of grace, at least in front of other people. He can tell the rest of the team is trying too, but quite unconvincingly. Onstage, accepting the medals for second place—mockingly silver, and no trophies—the team’s smiles are forced, plastic. 

Back to the hotel rooms are a different story. When you slam the hotel door shut, it echoes down the hall and makes even your debate adviser flinch. It would have made Spencer flinch too, if he hadn't already expected it. He's grown accustomed to how bad of a loser you can be. Like a tornado, your anger spares no one from its destruction. It is in these moments that your stoic resolve crumbles, no longer unfeeling, but rather fully human. Hurtful. Ruthless Unfortunately for him, he's directly in your line of fire.

He catches bits and pieces of your muttered diatribes. He’s used to those too. Normally, he would have ignored them. Losing sucks the energy out of a person, regardless of how uncompetitive he is. Besides, your ranting is mostly harmless, until one sentence snags his attention.

“— knew I should have been the opening speaker —”

He is clawing at his tie, trying desperately to get it off, but the words make him stop immediately. He whirls around, brows furrowed, “What?”

You pause as well, “What?”

“What did you say about being the opening speaker?” He watches you roll your eyes. It does nothing to calm the bitterness in the back of his throat. The normal song and dance goes like this: he’d say a string of words in an attempt to soothe the fire burning in your nerves, and you'd say something so vitriolic he'd refuse to speak to you for the rest of your time together. 

But today, having just lost the biggest championship after working so hard, he's a short fuse and your words are incendiary.

“I said I should have done it, like I asked—”

“Ah, as usual, you're mad that you didn't get what you wanted.” 

An offended scoff. He's almost proud he managed to pull that out of you. “You take too long—”

“Nationals isn't the time to suddenly alter the roles,” he tells you, shaking his head. He manages to loosen the tie, finally, tossing it on his bed with so much aggression it misses the mattress and lands limply on the floor, “I've always been the opening speaker.”

“Yes, and one would think that after going through so many debate competitions,  you would learn to be more succinct,” you snap, shoes making harsh clacks against the tiled floor, “The goal isn't to let us know you're the smartest person in the room, Spencer, it's to set up the tone and groundwork of—”

“I don't need you to lecture me about being the opening,” he interrupts, “I know what my role requires of me.”

“Do you?” Eyes flashing, you walk to him until you're almost chest to chest, “Because we still lost.”

“And you blaming me?” he hisses, leaning down. He hates doing this, stooping to your level of pettiness. Normally, he would choose to be the bigger person, refusing your verbal sparring; he likes to focus his energy on the actual debate, the opposing team, not his own teammates. But your words cut deeper than normal; it isn't the fault the team lost, that's just a flat out lie, “We advised you multiple times to memorize the statistics—”

“Something you're better at!” You look physically pained to admit his superiority, but the words spill anyway, “You'd be so much better to do the rebuttals since you have your stupid photographic memory, and I can set the tone better, but nobody on this little boys club ever listens to me!”

He's surprised at the choked tone your voice has taken. In his mind, you're a complete equal—you made it to the team through hard work and impeccable skills, like the rest of them did, after all. It didn't matter that you are a woman to him, so of course his instinct is to deny. “That’s not true.” but even his voice sounds weak. 

How would he know if it’s not true? He’s never been in your shoes before, never had to reckon with what comes with being the only woman in a team of men.

“Isn’t it?” he flinches at the venom in your voice, “You all act like I'm an afterthought—I get the shittiest positions even when I know I can be more effective in a different one, no one ever asks me for strategy, hell, you never invite me to your stupid chess games.”

His mouth opens and closes foolishly, latching on to the one thing he has a full response to, “I thought you hate chess.”

A sharp laugh, petulant and bitter, “I do, but it would have been nice to be included.”

He doesn’t know what to say. You’ve turned around, yanking off your pristine maroon blazer so roughly he’s afraid it might rip. The silence that grows makes him itch, hands balling into fists as he tries to think of what to do. Social dynamics have always been a thing of mystery to him. 

He wonders if he is part of this problem. He’s no stranger to feeling different and on the outs, and it pains him to think that he inadvertently caused someone else to feel that same, unpleasant exclusion.

But, no. Quickly, he recalls every single time he’s tried to include you—a museum trip that you’d declined because you had a party you wanted to attend. His extra tickets to the Nutcracker.

“That’s not true,” his voice is firm now, following you until he’s standing right behind. Lavender hits his nose and his brain registers the scent of your shampoo. Definitely too close if he can smell that, but he refuses to back away, intent on getting his point across, “That’s not true, I’ve tried to— you were always too busy.”

“What, I’m a liar now?” you spin around, pretty features twisted to somehow express both anger and hurt. He almost falters. Almost. 

But he’s too worked up, even though he knows he should back off, to not trivialize your experiences in order to defend himself. He should know better than this, but the sting of your accusation spurs him on. So he pushes, eyes narrowing, “Last year, September 14, 21, and 29, I invited you to come with us for several casual chess tournaments, you declined all invitations because you claimed you hated chess. October 29th, I told you about the new exhibit they were displaying—”

“It was Halloween weekend, I already had plans—”

“December 19th, I offered you Nutcracker tickets and you said you’d already seen it—”

“I have,” your voice has grown quiet now, and if he stops speaking for a single moment to look, your features have relaxed into something gentler. But he’s on a roll, and you have always been right about things; his inability to be succinct is one of them.

“Even this year, I invited you to study multiple times, but you’ve always had prior plans,” the words are spoken with neutrality. He isn’t even angry anymore, just eager to list everything down and let you know how hard he’s tried with you. Even after the numerous rejections, he’s made an effort, but of course, you have other friends, other plans outside your nerdy debate team. He’s never held that against you, but if you wanted to point fingers, he has the means to defend himself. And sure, he wants to prove you wrong on some level too, but that’s the lesser point. “Maybe if you stopped acting like you’re better than me, and just accepted, you wouldn’t be feeling so excluded.”

“I don’t act like I’m better than you.”

“You just said you would have made a better opening speaker.”

You scoff, “Oh my god, you’re infuriating, I can’t believe I’m stuck with you!”

Spencer bristles at that, “I’m giving you the facts, it’s not my fault you can’t handle them.” he says, leaning closer, trying to make her see his point, “You’re always so closed off and the other guys have just given up trying. Maybe if you—”

“What? If I smiled more? Acted less like a bitch?” you sneer, eyes narrowed dangerously, “I thought a genius like you would know better than to use misogynistic language like that.”

“Wha— no! Don’t put words in my mouth.” Spencer replies, shaking his head. The conversation is devolving into something dangerous, the air crackling with something electric. He assumes it’s anger. They will never get anywhere, so he sighs, softening slightly, “I never said that. I’m just pointing out that you weren’t blameless in this, you know?”

You’re silent. He watches you, takes in how the resentment in your eyes have been dulled by something more contemplative.

He continues, “Listen, I’m sorry if we’ve made you feel like you were on the outs. I’m sure we have to do so much reflection as a team and as individuals about how we treat each other, but it’s unfair to say that we never include you when I have actively been making efforts to—”

Your lips are upon him. 

That’s inaccurate. 

You are upon him, arms flung around his neck, body pressed flush against his. He feels the entire world tilt, and he’s unsure if it’s because you’re pulling him down or because your lips are so pillowy he’s instantly eager for more. Wants it like a man starved. Needs it, needs more, but his body betrays him. Whether it’s his inexperience or surprise or a combination of both. He freezes, blinking rapidly at the sight of you. Eyes shut, and face so close to him; so, so close he can count each individual eyelash, see the tiny freckle on your eyelid that gets hidden if your eyes are open.

And then you're gone. The freckle disappears as you look at him with wide eyed mortification. 

“Shit, Spencer, I—”

It’s his lips that cut you off this time, seeking out the velvety warmth of your mouth. Your lips part under his, and he registers a sound, soft and whining. It takes him a moment to realize it came from him, from the back of his throat and muffled by your lips and tongue and oh you’re both falling.

Literally. He must have leaned too far into you; you’re suddenly collapsing, forcing him down because your arms have him in a vice grip and he’s too busy chasing after your lips. The next thing he knows is he’s on top of you and you’re sprawled on the bed beneath him. Time stands still; he’s painfully aware of how cliche that is, but every sense of eloquence seems to have been expelled from his brain as he takes you in; lips swollen and wet from his kisses, pupils blown wide. Every breath you take pushes your chest up against his, and he can feel your heart thrumming against his body. 

“Well, that was one way of shutting you up,” you chuckle with a cockiness that makes his heart speed up, though it isn’t borne out of embarrassment. Every single physiological effect of your body is evidence that you’re enjoying this, telling him you’re just as worked up as he is. The breathiness in your voice, the quickness of your heartbeat. 

The fact that you’re pulling him down again, legs hooking around his hips. He surrenders to it, lips meeting yours once again, deeper and more desperate this time.

He closes his eyes, relishing this, kissing you, touching you, an act he had believed is reserved for attractive jocks and charismatic art nerds. Not him, quiet and lanky, shifting to avoid his angular bones from digging into you, and to place himself more comfortably on the bed. Inexperienced, ungainly, and yet here he is, his tongue pushing into your mouth in his first forays into something that his peers have experienced years ago.

Spencer Reid isn’t used to being the one behind, doing the catching up. Child prodigy, genius, the words aren’t meaningless. He’s been ahead academically—which, up until this point, has been his whole life. But feeling warm lips beneath his own has him reconsidering some of his life choices. 

The kiss is messy. Sloppy from his clumsy attempts to keep up with your eagerness. You’re tugging at something, and he realizes it’s to untuck the rest of the crisp shirt you’ve donned for the debate tournament out from your skirt. His hands settle on your waist, finding smooth, heated skin from where your shirt has ridden up. Careful fingers help push it up, burying under the fabric until his palms are mapping out the slopes of your body. 

Soft. So damn soft. 

Not cold marble after all. He theorizes you must be soft everywhere, and he decides to test it out with his lips, laving kisses along your jaw, down the sweet, musky skin of your neck where your perfume still lingers. Instincts take over and he allows himself a taste, tongue darting out. You shudder, so he does it again, greedy for your pretty moans and gasps. 

He can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips, “Thought you were mad at me?” he mumbles, trailing his kisses down the column of your throat. 

You’re all mhms and ohhhs right now, so far from the usual image you present to the world, a preppy, manicured woman who wrestles for control over everything. You must hate this, he thinks, being beneath him physically, caged within his arms which are deceptively strong for how fragile he looks. 

“Shut up,” you grumble.

“Make me.” His grin is dopey when he lifts his head to meet her gaze.

Something brushes against his crotch, and now he’s the one gasping, jerking in surprise at the friction. You’ve slotted your thigh between his, and his traitorous body responds by grinding down on it shamelessly. The look on your face is smug, triumphant.

“Huh,” saccharine and mocking, you blink up at him innocently, “That was easier than I thought.”

His head drops to your neck again, but he isn’t kissing you anymore. Just open mouthed breathing as he rubs himself on your thigh, hands tightening on your sides, “Mhm.”

“Are you gonna come? Spencer, I haven’t even touched you yet.”

He sinks his teeth into your flesh to fight the needy whines because yes, he’s so embarrassingly close and you’re both still fully dressed. He hears a hiss, and he backs off immediately, murmuring apologies, “Didn’t mean to—”

“‘S okay,” you tilt your head back, give him more access to your neck, “Just don’t leave marks.”

Permission to bite. He gulps, heart beating wildly, before ducking back down. Chapped lips run over your neck, finding a soft spot to bite, forcing himself to soften the way his teeth sink into your skin. All the while rubbing himself on your thigh because it’s probably the closest thing to heaven a man such as him will ever experience. 

He hears your laughter, your mocking cooes of, “You’re so fucking needy” but he can’t bring himself to care.

You’re correct, he decides, as you usually are. He’s needy, desperately so, eagerly chasing the delicious pleasure of dry humping your thigh. 

“Hold on, Spencer.”

You push him back gently. A whine rips from his throat, “Mhm—why?”

He gets his answer soon enough. Your hands undo his belt and he swears this sets his whole body on fire. Nobody’s ever seen him like this. Never has another person touched him so intimately, seen him so out of control, so brainless. He’s babbling incoherently as your hand strokes up and down his length, his hips rutting into your hand. It’s out of sync. Two dancers on entirely different rhythms.

Your laughter rings in his ears, one hand tangled in his hair as the other does unspeakable, tantalizing things to his aching cock. 

“Mhm, can’t— I’m gonna—” and he’s spilling into your hand, hot, viscous liquid overflowing from your hand and staining your skirt, “Ah, shit.”

He collapses against you, head on the crook of your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath. “‘M sorry, I’ll– I’ll pay for your dry cleaning.”

Your chest shakes as you laugh, “Would you? I think you owe me more than that.” The heat in your voice makes his breath catch in his throat.

Soft kisses press upon your neck as he gathers his thoughts, willing his brain to work again. Anatomy, female anatomy. Female pleasure. What does he know about this? A lot, surprisingly, though mostly from books. Mostly in theory, but that’s a start. He can put them to practice right now. His hands drag down your sides until they catch the waistband of your skirt. “May I?”

“Okay.”

He pulls gently, exposing the rest of your thighs and legs. Honey brown eyes devour the expanse of your skin, hands clutching at the softness. He marvels at the way your flesh accepts his own, bright red splotches imprinted from his fingertips.   

He thinks of poetry, the uncountable amount of words and phrases written to immortalize women and love and sex, and he finds himself wishing he has the skill to compose something as beautiful, something worthy of you right now, radiant and half naked and somehow all his. 

But he is no poet, so he touches his lips upon your body instead. Pretty words will escape him, but his lips can speak even without them, he’ll make sure of it. He kisses down your abdomen, making sure to pay attention to every hidden freckle and birthmark he comes across. Your reactions make him feel drunk, to the point of affecting him physically. Messier kisses. Hands tugging and nearly ripping the lace of your panties because he’s unaware of his own strength. 

“So pretty,” he mumbles, “So pretty.” It’s all he can repeat, but then his tongue lands on your slick heat and suddenly words are forgotten in favor of vague groaning. Because how can he accurately describe the sensation of this? Tasting you. God how has he gone so long without this? Your nails scraping his scalp, his fingers sinking into your thighs as he keeps you still. He’s halfway off the bed, legs dangling off the edge, your thighs squeezing his face. 

There’s nowhere else he would rather be. 

He laps at your folds like a mad man, tongue pressed flat and dragging up slowly to get as much of you in his mouth as possible. His feet find the floor, allowing himself more stability to once again rub his growing erection against a solid object. The poor mattress is going to be ruined once they’re done.

“Faster,” you gasp, jerking your hips into his face, “Spencer— oh, yeah like that!”

Spencer Reid is a quick study, and when he hears the positive reactions, he doubles down until he feels you convulse against his tongue. You jerk so violently he has to hold you down. He pushes his tongue past your entrance experimentally, and feels you tug roughly on his hair in response, gasping his name and God’s name in slurred phrases as you ride out your high.

It’s the hottest damn thing he’s ever experienced.

 “Jesus Christ,” you gasp, and he has to repeat that ridiculous sentence again, because it’s true and he feels you deserve it.

“You’re so pretty.” He fears you might be some kind of magnet, because his lips keep getting drawn back to your skin. He lets his kisses travel up your hip bone, before grinning up at you, “Even when you’re being insufferable, you’re still so beautiful.”

“Gee thanks,” you huff, pulling at his arm, “How romantic, I’m swooning.”

“Might not be swooning, but you did just come on my face.” brilliant rows of teeth flash at you as he smiles smugly.

“Asshole.”

“Is that how you say thank you?” he drags his body up lazily, draping himself over you.

“I’m not— wait, are you hard again?”

“Uh…”

“Needy, needy boy.” you pull him down to you, and he almost protests, his chin and mouth still covered with your slick. But you don’t seem to care, so he follows your lead, God at this point he would follow you anywhere at all. You’re shifting beneath him, and the next thing he knows is your legs are wrapped around his waist again, your heat completely exposed and pressing against his cock.

“Mhm,” he pulls back, eyes wide, “I—”

“What?” you whisper, lifting your head to continue giving him kisses, teeth playfully nipping at his jaw, “It’s fine, I’m on birth control.”

“It’s not that,” he can’t deny you, his body relaxing back down over you. His lips catch yours for a moment, slow and achingly tender, “I’ve just never really done this before.”

He waits for the inevitable laughter. Here he is, at 21, and somehow still the same person he had been when he first entered college at 14. But you continue to look at him with heavy lids, breathless and flushed. 

“Okay,” your voice is kind, sweet, “Take it slow then.” your hand wraps around his length again, the movement slower this time, as you align him to your entrance. He hisses as the sensitive tip grazes against your folds, as he feels your entrance slowly give way to him and envelop his cock. 

“Oh,” he sighs. With your help, he sinks halfway into you, one hand gripping your hip, the other bracing himself on his elbow. Eyes squeezed shut, he stills and manages to ask, “Are you okay?”

You don’t speak, and so he forces his eyes to focus and look at you. The sight has him twitching inside you. Mouth agape and eyes hazy, you’re nodding up at him wordlessly as your hips rock up into his. “More.”

It’s exhilarating. He’s known you for the past year, worked alongside you but respected your need for distance. And now, here you are, not merely close, but one. Spencer sighs, and thrusts shallowly, eyes zeroed in on you and your reactions. He doesn’t want to hurt you, doesn’t want it to end too soon, so he moves slowly, dragging out his cock until only the tip rests inside you, then sliding into the hilt.

It elicits the most mellifluous sounds from you, making him smile in relief. He lets his forehead rest against yours, thrusts growing more confident, but still in that slow, almost dreamy pace. He memorizes every detail of this moment, from the way your eyes flutter closed, to the quiver of your legs as they wrap tighter around his thighs. 

“So good,” he hears himself say, “God, you feel so good.”

“Mhm,” you nod, nails digging into his back, even through his clothes. In the heat of the moment, you’re both still half dressed, only getting rid of your bottom clothes in order to get what you need from each other, “More, Spencer, I need more.”

He nods, letting his thrusts grow faster, rougher. It’s an awkward angle, he’s afraid his knees will start cramping, but the feeling of being surrounded by your warmth, drowning in your moans has him reckless. “There?” he grunts, angling just so, and he can’t help the smirk on his face when he feels your walls clenching around him.

“There, there, yes!”

He’s not sure how he manages to last as long as he does. Maybe it’s the sheer desire to feel you fall apart, for his cock to be drenched in your slick that keeps his release at bay. Maybe he has too much pent up sexual energy that’s just been dying to come out. Whatever it is, he’s thankful for it, because it means he’s spending more time inside you, hips moving with so much impact he’s pushing you forward with each thrust. 

“Yes, just like that.” you’re shuddering beneath him, and he moves his arm to the top of your head, creating a barrier between you and the headboard so you don’t hit it. He could stop, readjust your positions, but he doesn’t have it in him. 

No, he wants to stay inside you, forever if there’s an anatomically feasible way to do it. But unless he invents it, he’ll settle for right now, settle for the heat between your bodies, and how you’re practically melting into the mattress, arching so prettily against him.

“You close?” he murmurs, one hand finding your clit, drawing gentle circles with his fingertips.

“No fair,” you whine, bucking into him, “That’s cheat— Spencer!” 

You come undone in the most enthralling way, eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip bitten by your own lips. You squeeze and flutter around him, and he’s helpless to stop his own release, spilling deep inside you with a broken cry from his own mouth. Your name is whispered, over and over again, until he stills, his vision blurry as he collapses against you.

He curls around you, trying to get as close, “You—that was—wow.” 

You giggle, still breathless and glassy eyed, “Are you sure that was your first time?”

“Yes,” he gives you a series of kisses along your temple, “Yes, it was. You—wow.” he carefully pulls out of you, hissing quietly when the cool air conditioned air hits his sensitive flesh. “Was that enough of an apology for not including you to our chess nights?”

“You’re making jokes now?”

“No,” he smiles, leaning away to look at you, all starry eyed and boneless, “Not a joke. Because if it’s not enough, I can do it again.” a kiss to your cheek, “And again.” one on the tip of your nose, “And again.”

When you laugh in response, he cups your cheek, “I mean it.” he says with all the seriousness he can muster.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Does this mean you’ll accept my invitations now?” he lights up, a large smile splitting his face.

“Only if it’s a date.”

"Then it's a date."

[sunshine-jesse]

The Painful Realities of Andy and Leyley

Decay gave me a lot to chew on. While there was very little that caught me by surprise, per se (insofar as there’s a difference between shock and surprise), I didn't expect Nemlei to Go There with regards to some of the themes she covered in the newest update. I had a hunch, sure, but it was so (seemingly) out of place compared to the tone of the rest of the game that I didn't explore it as well as I could've. Most writers who cover the things Decay did don't play it dreadfully straight or treat it with so much respect. And even when they do, it often comes off as fetishized, which isn't bad per se, but so little of the rest of the game came off as The Author's Poorly Disguised Fetish that it was hard to take the prospect as seriously as I could've.

Effectively, Nemlei outplayed my media analysis skills by being an even better writer than I anticipated.

And so, I will respond in turn.

...or at least, I can try to.

I don't think I can type an analysis that is purely analytical anymore. Episode 3 hit me so much harder than anything that came before it that it's very difficult to write what I do with any sense of detachment. I can't pretend it didn't get personal. I love these characters. I love this story. I love the themes it covers. And I relate to many of them.

That's why seeing TCAL playing everything so dreadfully straight hurt so much.

(This essay is going to be somewhat narrativized to reflect my playing experience of Decay. This is a writing exercise as much as it is character analysis. But I also didn't have the patience to proofread this, so please be gentle.)

Part 1: The Games We Play With Ourselves

My first route was the Cliffhanger route. I want to pretend that I picked it because I knew it’d be the best outcome due to my unparalleled (insert ashley smug face here) understanding of the characters but I actually wasn’t expecting that one moment to be the big decision that caused the paths to diverge. It was just the only save file I had for Decay because it was the most hopeful outcome to me at the time. Because of that, when playing through Decay, everything felt so… business as usual. Things didn’t even feel as tense as they did in episode 2 when the paths diverged. This is, as a matter of fact, how I reacted for most of my first playthrough of the game. I didn’t see it as weird. It made sense. Nobody was really wrong here or making particularly bad decisions.

The only thing that caught me by surprise for the first half of it was when Andrew slapped Ashley, but I didn’t even feel like it was that shocking of a moment. Ashley has a chronic problem with taking things seriously, so I don’t think Andrew showing her what it means to take a threat of violence seriously is a particularly out of pocket response. However, it’s also not the only way to assert his identity as Andrew, because Burial showed us a better way for him to do the same: quiet dismissal with a confident assertion that ‘Andy’ is dead. Slapping her wasn’t the only way to get the point across, but it was -a- way, and I think it was important for Ashley to internalize it even though the slap was a simultaneous sign of strength AND weakness on Andrew’s end.

He didn’t need to play her game, but he did, and he managed to make it mean something.

The episode in general went through great lengths to show how unseriously Ashley takes her own actions. Which is a mood (she’s literally me, chat), for sure, but we’ve already seen that offhanded remarks by Ashley are enough to deeply sting Andrew.

This whole scene was an example of her not taking her own words seriously, by highlighting a dynamic we took for granted in prior episodes. Their endless back and forth is perceived as a harmless game by her. A lot of people perceived this dynamic as toxic back in prior chapters but it’s fairly common in long-term relationships. As someone who has a tendency of doing that myself- at least with friends- it makes social situations easier to navigate when I know that both of us are aware that the other person isn’t actually trying to hurt the other in a way that sticks. 

(I’m obviously not saying that their dynamic isn’t toxic, just that this one aspect of it is fairly normal and often taken uncharitably)

There are dozens upon dozens more examples than this but I assume that if I need to list them off to you then you haven’t actually played the game. I’m just listing this one because it’s useful for highlighting the way she views their dynamic.

Either way, Andrew isn’t having it this time, because he’s focusing harder on something he wanted from Ashley all along:

Respect.

Respect is a huge running theme in this episode, and the decision to accept being called Andrew or Andy is the make or break point for the route, and by proxy, their relationship. If Andrew decides to demand self-respect by asserting his identity as Andrew, then Ashley takes his request to not roast the camper seriously. But if he doesn’t demand to be called Andrew, then she does roast the camper. The implications of this decision are huge, but if you choose to be called Andy, he’s too much of a doormat at this point to show why it’s so important.

Accepting being called Andy gives Ashley permission to double down on all the worst aspects of their dynamic. There’s a lot to say about how Andrew reacts to this, but most of it is retreading old ground, because he’s made his issues with this and what it means to him abundantly clear already. What’s more interesting- to me- is how Ashley reacts. When Andrew reacts to “Why do you think it’s okay to hurt me?”, Ashley responds with… confusion.

"(It's) fine to stomp over every boundary I've ever set, isn't it?"

"I- uh...... wouldn't know."

She doesn’t get it. She genuinely doesn’t get it. She does not understand boundaries, flat-out. She has very few of her own, and therefore doesn’t see them in other people. Even when Andrew expressed boundaries to her in his past- the few times it actually happened- he quickly lowered them, never teaching her what they actually mean. While we don’t know for absolute certain because of how few flashbacks we’ve seen from her perspective, it seems like she’s never been held to account for transgressing a boundary.

Even when she’s slapped in the face, she doesn’t quite understand that it’s Andrew setting a boundary and showing self-respect. We see this later on with the argument she has with Andrew later in the episode:

"...............I stopped calling you Andy."

"Ooooh! Hallelujah! She hasn't called me by the wrong name for a few days! Mercy me, do I stand corrected! This must be love! And not just any love, but true love of the highest caliber!"

She thinks it’s just doing him a favor. She’s not respecting his boundaries at all. It’s something she’s GIVING to him.

With Ashley’s general inability to take things seriously in mind, and her lack of understanding of boundaries, I think there’s one more piece of the puzzle I need to explore before I can explain why I think things I really went to shit:

HOT

SIBLING

BREEDING!!!

Coffin is, still, even with Decay in mind, not making a statement on whether or not incest is good or bad. I can say that with full confidence. It's going further than that: it's using their incestuous relationship to highlight the ways in which the siblings interface with sexuality. Their more romantic, intimate moments are still portrayed as cute, and something that makes both of them happy. Physical affection stabilizes their relationship, and is something the two of them need to feel like things are okay. It doesn't hurt them.

...to a point.

Because she sure as fuck isn’t showing that it’s good, either.

In the Shoot/Dead End route (I'll be referring to this route as 3B from here on, and the cliffhanger route as 3A), their incestuous tendencies are unambiguously portrayed as a negative thing. Everything they do together makes one or both of them uncomfortable, unlike almost every other instance we see in every other route. But why? What's the difference between 3A and 3B?

Let's compare the scenes of intimacy between 3A and 3B:

In 3A, Andrew was slow, patient, and gentle, resulting in something that both Ashley and him enjoyed. They cracked a laugh, hugged each other, very cute, wholesome, and not at all weird if you don't look at the shared genetics behind the curtain.

But in 3B, he was sudden and forceful, resulting in something Ashley didn't enjoy. She tries to reciprocate but he pulls away shortly after, supposedly because she's not good at kissing, and also because he still feels gross about actually enjoying a sexual encounter with his little sister. Her reaction to this was visible confusion.

I want to establish my takes on these scenes now because I’m going to draw attention to them later on.

So, let’s recap:

Ashley doesn’t take things seriously enough. She doesn’t understand personal boundaries. She attempts to reciprocate affections and act with visible confusion when it’s rejected. What does this mean? I want everyone to hear me out on this before they respond with ‘well, no fucking shit Sherlock’, because this little fact about Ashley’s character goes far deeper and is more wide-reaching than many might think, at least given the kinds of analysis I see on this game:

Ashley treats life like a game. 

And I don’t mean that as a heavy-handed metaphor for her thinking everyone needs to be played and manipulated and that she has very little personal investment in anything that goes on. I mean she actually, literally, treats life like a game. Let me highlight something from the Q&A so I can explain just how important this really is:

“She doesn’t want to grow up”

“her fantasy of Andy and Leyley.”

When she calls Andrew Andy as a teenager:

"It's supposed to be endearing!! It's our secret game! I thought you liked that kind of thing."

You see where I’m going with this? Her whole dynamic with Andrew is part of that ‘secret game’ to her. It’s something she takes seriously, unlike everything else in life. Every deviation from it is merely doing him a favor. She’s allowing him to break the rules, if only temporarily. She doesn’t take many things seriously because she can’t emotionally grasp the significance of it. In her mind, she’s still a child. And for much of the story, no matter the route, she’s still playing that game with Andrew, no matter what’s at stake.

Ribbing at each other? Part of the game.

Their mutual displays of affection? Part of the game.

But boundaries? Those weren’t part of the rules.

This is why Ashley is so confused and distressed when none of ‘her’ games work on Andrew anymore.

The rules have changed. And she doesn’t understand them anymore.

Here lies the core differences between the routes in Decay. In 3A, Andrew is still willing to play that game with her. 

Just like in real life,

Just like with his peers, with his mom, with Julia,

Andrew knows how to pretend to play Ashley’s game.

He’s not quite aware it’s a game in the same ways as her, but he does know the sets of behaviors he can use to calm Ashley down. And as shown with the Entity, he’s extremely good at negotiating rules even when he’s not aware there’s a game at play. But he still doesn’t understand it as a game, and that’s where many of his frustrations come from (not to say Ashley is fully aware it’s a game either, but he’s even less aware than she is). Ashley doesn’t listen to him as often as he’d like because he’s not fully aware of the rules she expects them to operate under. Or perhaps, more accurately, not aware of what he has to do to change the rules rather than just create exceptions.

I don’t exactly know either, but I think it has something to do with how much gifts mean to Ashley. Keep in mind that all it takes is a wedding ring to avert the double suicide ending.

I think this proclivity for engaging with life as if it was a game might be why Ashley is said to be in-tune with the Demon Realm and enjoy their puzzles so much: everything has clear rules and conditions for winning or losing. Agreements are ironclad, and a deal is a deal. It’s a series of easy and somewhat predictable input->output mechanisms, as long as she’s precise with her desires. While the Entity is clearly manipulating her in some way, it’s yet to do so through lies, and she has been shown no reason to believe that it ever lies, outside of when it tells her highly emotionally inconvenient information.

(If your eyebrow rose when reading that, mine rose while typing it too, but I’m not here to diagnose anyone because that makes analysis less interesting and I literally wrote the essay on why people shouldn’t do that)

One detail I want to point out before tying this all back together is that games are something Ashley has appreciated from the absolute youngest we’ve ever seen her, before either of them did anything wrong: The flashback where they visited the grandparents. Andrew turning his pursuit of Ashley into a game was shown to instantly get her to behave better, as it’s given her clear and obvious rules to adhere to, and conditions to get something she wants, no strings attached. I wanted to point this out so I could establish that this is how she’s always been and not a pattern she fell into, because I need to emphasize just how pervasive games are to how Ashley interfaces with the world.

With Andrew, her ‘secret game’ becomes something different. 

Tying back into my first essay, the ‘games’ she plays are the framework with which she uses to feel in control of Andrew. They’re what her entire sense of safety is predicated on, and without the rules and reciprocal ‘play’ that comes with games, she loses any sense of emotional stability and becomes extremely volatile, confrontational, and sometimes violent. She’s not one who can function without an understanding of what’s going on, which is precisely why she lacks foresight and operates on intuition.

It’s not like she’s not trying, right? I’d like to present the scene where Andrew calls Julia with Ashley on the line.

At first, Ashley loses her shit and just barely manages to keep herself together. It really seems like an act of wanton cruelty on Andrew’s part, but it’s important to note that you get a star for this scene. You don’t get stars for scenes where their relationship deteriorates. So why do you get a star? She initially appeared upset, but the moment Andrew reframed it, her expression flipped, and she immediately became happy.

"So she can behave. Somewhat."

"Hmph! You dared to doubt me? Shame on you! Despite your underhanded bullshit, I emerge victorious!"

Andrew had to stop Ashley from yelling, and from hanging up, but Ashley managed to quiet down and stabilize herself enough to not loudly explode and get violent and uncontrollable.

And outside of where they were forced to be separated either to solve a puzzle or at the whims of the Entity, Andrew led her through every challenge they faced and she didn’t spend the whole time questioning his ability.

Why do you think we play as Andrew for the vast majority of the episode, even when they’re together?

She trusts his judgement more, even if she can’t quite understand (or at least vocalize) why. There’s a reason she roasts the camper in every route where this one interaction isn’t possible: Her desire to gain strength from eating people supersedes her trust in Andrew’s ability to handle difficult situations. She has to gain enough power for the both of them, or they’re fucked. But if Andrew has the strength to assert his identity as Andrew, maybe she doesn’t need to do all the heavy lifting.

(This is why I believe the star scenes are what they are. They’re not required to improve their relationship, but they ARE required for the necessary context to show why “the future” (as stated by the Entity in the Vision Room when he mentions them) is what it is.)

For a large part of the rest of the episode, we see a lot of smaller moments like this, where Ashley is at least trying to reach some kind of mutual understanding with Andrew and Andrew is trying to convey his actual feelings to Ashley, but the two of them keep speaking past each other because they simply do not understand the language that the other speaks. But what’s important is that their relationship manages to not deteriorate, and despite the vicious fighting, they still express a desire to understand the other when left to their own devices. By this point, I was feeling vindicated, as a lot of my initial analyses that were incredibly charitable to both siblings seemed to be at least somewhat correct and that I was right to give them the benefit of the d-....

Part 2: The Lies We Tell Ourselves

...-id Andrew just kill a fucking child in cold blood?!

I want to draw attention to the wording I used to describe how Ashley treats life as a game. I said she treats it as a game, not necessarily inexorably understands it as such. This is not a tendency she had no choice but to manifest; outside of being part of the way she manifests the Andy and Leyley fantasy, it’s also an emotional regulation tool that simplifies her interactions with the world. I want to specify this because I feel like, if I don’t, it might paint a picture of her being a helpless victim in a world that treats her poorly. Nor that growing up would solve her problems, and that she has no agency because she had no choice but to be this way. While I would never deny her nor Andrew victimhood of each other and the world around them, I also don’t want to confuse people into thinking that I don’t think they could’ve done better, and that I shouldn’t expect them to. Because the more I played through the game- and after finishing it, the more I thought about it- it became clearer and clearer that they could, because Andrew…

Holy shit, Andrew. Talk about dropping the pretense.

When the parents were sacrificed, Andrew- and his life- could never be normal again. The man realized that too, because nothing Ashley suggested registered as objectionable anymore. He offered so little resistance to killing the campers that it didn’t even sink in what kind of action that was. He was never much of a moral conscience to begin with, but from that point on, he stopped trying.

"Aaah, you know I can't say no to a family value pack."

Oh, Andrew, you wretched little shit. I get it now.

The thing about Andrew that I didn’t quite get last time is just how loose his grasp on the idea of normalcy actually was. It seemed like a central facet of his character and something he desperately wanted to hold on to at all costs, but now it looks much, much different. It wasn’t something he wanted to convince himself was true much past his teenage years, but the moment hormones started setting in, he made almost no effort to come to terms with his sexual desires. He made no attempt to distance himself from Ashley, to not project his fantasy on to Julia, or even to not peep at his sister in the shower.

‘Normal’ wasn’t something he wanted to be. It was a role he wanted to play.

At every chance he got, he fed into his darkest desires like an addict, and projected those fantasies on to Julia. He didn’t even bother trying to make space between him and Ashley; no, she had to do it for him, because she was mad at him. And the best part is, it wasn’t even good for him. 

As much as he tried to lie to himself, what he really wanted is to lie to others. Not once did he try to change himself in accordance with the person he wanted to be, and especially what others wanted him to be. Not once did he self-reflect about what he really wanted, or what would be best for him, or even Ashley, for that matter. He just wanted other people to shut up. Andrew was not a victim of his own impulses and desires. I really feel the need to emphasize just how messed up this man is; Without Ashley taking an active role in his life, he didn’t get better. He filled in the gaps in his heart by choosing to be worse.

Nemlei took subtext, turned it into text, and then turned that text into a baseball bat that she used to crack our skulls over and over again. He was never the ‘good person’ in their relationship, and never once tried to be.

And the worst part is that I fully understand and empathize with why.

There’s a funny thing that sometimes happens when you have impossible standards piled on to you and enforced through abuse and you’re denied a chance to ever be your own person: You fail to develop a coherent sense of identity. You latch on to anything that ‘seems’ right and predicate your whole sense of self on it. You need this sense of identity to navigate the world, so anything that threatens it is a threat to everything you know, and you respond to it in turn. Everything you do outside of that one core idea (or several ideas) becomes an act, a puppet show you play to placate others and serve your own ends. You can’t afford empathy or understanding to ‘threats’, because you’re too busy trying to protect what you ‘know’ you are. A threat to your world is a threat to your life, and so you respond by desperately doing whatever it takes to remove that threat. Sometimes lies, sometimes violence, of varying degrees of intensity depending on the threat.

Sometimes you learn to shut your feelings off.

Sometimes you learn to react too strongly.

Sometimes you learn that nobody else matters, because everyone else will just hurt you anyway.

You devalue people. You overvalue people. 

Anything to feel safe, anything to feel like the outside world is less of a threat. Anything to remove that threat, manage that threat, or protect the only thing in the world that matters to you, whether that thing is yourself, or someone else.

And for Andrew? It’s said to us in the beginning of episode 3:

Andy’s Leyley

Leyley’s Andy

Yeah, Nemlei. I get it. You understand. 

There’s another side to this coin, but I’ll get to that.

Not that this happens to everyone, but it absolutely happened to Andrew. The ‘role’ he was had forced upon him was that of Leyley’s _____. Her protector, teacher, parent, general caretaker. Her emotional regulator. Her brother.

Her everything.

It was all he could be. All he was allowed to be. Because the moment he diverged, he was punished greatly by Renee, and at some point, Ashley herself. He predicated his entire value system on being her ‘Andy’, to the point where every action he took that wasn’t part of the act he put on to attempt to interface with the world normally became for her.

It was all for her, because he was her _____. Anything to keep her under control, anything to keep her safe. 

One of the most notable examples of this is shown when Lord Unknown was attempting to give him therapy. When he started hearing how people spread rumors about how he slept with Ashley, and Douchebag told him that the people in Ashley’s class said that she spread them, he just glossed over this fact. So little attention is drawn to it that I actually missed it on my first playthrough. Instead, the first thing Andrew expressed internally was concern over whether or not she was being bullied; it didn’t even register in his mind that she was responsible for smearing his reputation. 

To him, she was never responsible for anything. She was his responsibility above all else. The incestuous rumors hardly mattered to him, and he kept finding holes in the story and pointing them out, such as how she didn’t have time to spread them early (since we saw them enter school together) in the day because she stood Douchebag up on a Friday, and how there was no way to catch them behind the auditorium ‘yesterday’ given it was a Monday. The presence of those holes is why I’m skeptical of whether or not she actually spread them, but it’s not like it’s something she wouldn’t do. More on that later.

Above all else, Andrew wasn’t concerned about how people saw him; he hardly even cared. He was upset mostly about people thinking that he’d take advantage of Ashley in that way. There was nothing weird to him about how clingy they were to each other, how affectionate they were, how protective he was.

Of course he was all that. Andrew was her brother. It was his job to be all that. It was his job to be her _____.

I’d like to present an alternate theory to the idea that Andrew dated Julia to appear normal. The theory isn’t mutually compatible with that, but it feels woefully incomplete.  Given the focus on bullying, the anger had over the idea that he’d ever hurt her, and the fact that sexual feelings started creeping in his mind thanks to the magical curse of teenage hormones, I believe the primary reason he dated Julia was so that he could prove to others- and himself- that he would never hurt his precious Ashley. Not in that way, not at all. It was everything he predicated his sense of identity on. It was what he had to be, above all else.

So in order to protect his ‘role’, his identity, he chose something he, deep down, knew would hurt her, because nobody could ever be led to believe that he’d take advantage of her like that.

Especially himself.

Appearing normal to others was a pleasant side-effect of this, and if he could convince himself he loved Julia, he’d never have to add ‘boyfriend’ to the list of things he had to be for Ashley.

Hahahaha, whoops. 

Surprise! It was the thing he actually wanted to be for her the most! 

Teenage hormones are an awful thing, aren’t they? In realizing that he had sexual feelings for Ashley, he finally found something he’d actually enjoy being for her! 

And it was something he could never be, lest it risk everything else he thought of himself as being for her!

Oh, the wretched irony of sexual desire. I could never.

Which way, western man? Everything you think you should be, or the one thing you actually want to be?

Andrew tries to have it both ways, but, y’know how that went. No attempt to rein in these desires, projecting his sister on his girlfriend, etc etc. Already been over that. But now I can highlight why I believe he got worse and kept feeding into his desires; the closest thing to a moral conscience he had- his identity as Leyley’s _____- takes a step out of his life for reasons I’ll cover when I cover how much of a fuck up she actually is. 

What, you thought I’d skip over her just because I was- and still am- her number one defender? Oh no no. Now that I know better than to give these losers (that I love very dearly and desire nothing but happiness for) so much charitability, I have a lot to say about her too. But back to Andrew.

Without that sense of personal identity- without his proximity to Ashley- he sees no reason not to give into his desires, watch her while she dresses, and project all of his most sexual fantasies on to Julia. His interactions with Ashley were, as fucked up as it is, grounding to him. They stabilize him, give him a reason to act right that isn’t just a facade. With that, he has nothing. Nothing except his facade of normalcy.

I think the year-long gap between his interactions with Ashley are precisely the reason why ‘normalcy’ became so important to him. It became a second sense of identity that conflicted with what he predicated his identity on before. He could finally emulate being a somewhat normal person, with a somewhat normal attachment to a somewhat normal person. Horray! But the prior identity still existed. It never went away. Ashley was where his heart was, and trying to give it to someone else only hollowed out what was there before.

This one CG speaks louder than any words the man has ever spoken, up to this point.

These are not the eyes of someone who is merely depressed. These are the eyes of someone who is confronting the idea of living a life without the only thing that ever gave him meaning.

He can’t even make eye contact with himself, because there’s nothing there.

Andrew, without Ashley, is a hollow husk of a man who starts to crumble the more he tries to convince himself he could be anything other than her everything.

She is the light of his life. The nightmarish, toxic, corrosive light of his life.

(cont. in next post)

[yetrop]

Good Omens is autistic—here’s why!

First off, there’s the angelic/demonic nature of the protagonists

They’re trying to blend in with humanity, but have to pick things up as they go along

Because of this, the way they interact with and view people is different from the expected norm

Which also means they're often confused by human customs and find it difficult to read social cues (think Aziraphale asking Maggie if she actually thinks she isn’t crying later on in this scene)

Crowley has to hide his eyes, a part of his identity, from everyone except Aziraphale and the other demons for fear of seeming different/threatening/not human (masking in the most literal sense of the word)

Muriel is concerned with acting and speaking “correctly” to be seen as human

Even though both main characters don’t fit in with humanity because of their angelic/demonic nature, they also don’t fit in with their respective sides, who view them both as strange and don’t understand them. The only place they find acceptance/belonging is with each other. If that isn’t a neurodivergent (and very queer) storyline, I don’t know what is.

Next up, there’s Aziraphale as a whole

The way he stims

Loves routine, dislikes change

Gets uncomfortable when he has to break rules/disrupt order

Taking things literally— “You can’t drive my Bentley.” “I can— I have a license!” (also, this scene is another example of his insistence on order and rules— he insisted on getting a license before they were even legally required)

Paces back and forth talking to himself, planning out what he’s going to say before a conversation (scripting)

The way he suppresses stimming around Heaven by clasping hands behind back, feels uncomfortable and overstimulated there

Bookshop is super cluttered, he has an organizational system that is comprehensible to basically exclusively him

Clumsy, often sucks at motor coordination

Easily startled

He loves alone time, especially when he’s in his own space— he does everything he can to keep customers away from his bookshop

Attaches a lot of sentimental value to inanimate objects (“I’ve kept this in tip-top condition for over 180 years!”)

Incredibly passionate about his interests, especially magic and books

Black and white thinking and rigid morality— He loves and trusts Crowley more than the other angels, but still has tendency to categorize Heaven, Hell, angels and demons as exclusively good or bad (“of course you didn’t go back to Hell— you’re the bad guys!”)

Crowley’s definitely got something neurodivergent going on too (leaning towards ADHD, but potentially AuDHD)

The way he sits in chairs

Hell, (…or Heaven, whatever…) even just the “ducks!” moment alone is enough to show that that his mind jumps around a lot to unexpected loose threads rather than focusing on the subject at hand

Impulsivity

Creative and has a vivid inner world. As pointed out by God Herself, he has what the other demons don’t— an imagination

Craves novelty, frequently changes appearance

Stimming starmaker

This one is from the book, but it’s too good not to point out: the way he idolizes characters like Bond and copies his behaviors off of what he thinks a cool human would do. He has a new computer because it’s “the sort of thing Crowley felt that the sort of human he tried to be would have” (pg 239)

His understanding of how humans fall in love is based on a Richard Curtis film he’s seen

His insistence on asking questions when things don’t make sense to him, knowing why things are the way they are rather than blindly accepting them

And of course, there’s the themes of the story

Black and white thinking vs shades of grey

Breaking away from a world that doesn’t accept you to find love, belonging, and safety

And, as demonstrated time and time again by our two protagonists: intelligence isn’t synonymous with interpersonal skills (…or common sense.)

Thanks for reading all of that! This isn’t the kind of post I normally make, but I have so many thoughts about this that have been on my mind for almost two years now, so I decided to share them.

While there are of course a lot of plot-related reasons for why they behave the way that they do and many of the traits I brushed on could be explained by other factors, I still find it interesting to explore it through a neurodivergent lens. I also think the existence of angels with physical disabilities (like Saraqueal) adds credibility to the idea that other types of disabilities or neurodivergence is at the very least possible for angels and demons in this universe.

Feel free to point out anything I forgot to include (which I have no doubt is a lot) and let me know your own thoughts in the comments or tags— I’d love to hear them!

[alfascorpiionux]

Astro notes ~1

Hope you’ll enjoy it~💛

Aries people with Moon in Libra/Virgo can be extremely petty and tend to get jealous easily (this applies to friendships as well). They are very loyal though, and some of the most active, hardworking people you’ll come across.

Libra people are some of the friendliest you can find and are known for their good taste and usually good social skills.

Libra with Moon in Pisces has lots of crushes and falls in love easily (but more times than not with the wrong people, much to their dismay). Is sensitive, undecisive. Can be both giving and selfish at the same time. Needs plenty of time by himself/herself to recharge and get detached from others’ feelings, problems.

Moon in Sagittarius: I cannot emphasise this enough: we absolutely loath showing weakness especially when in a group setting and always want to view the world with the “glass half-full” mentality. The unevolved energies of this placement might have commitment issues beacuse we tend to live life based on principles and have quite high standards when it comes to the people we let it. So when our view of the “perfect” you is shattered it can be quite heartbreaking and we may distance ourselves to study you further or try to forget the hurt you caused us. There is a certain grade of naivety, childlike wonder to this placement which can be infectious to other people. You can make somebody’s day brighter with your words and attitude. You also probably have a very strong moral compass, a philosophical outlook on life and are quite friendly.

The lower energies of this placement predispose to anger (which is expressed differently depending on the house your Moon is placed in; typically it’s more concealed, especially in the beginning), short temper, commitment issues, forgetfulness.

Aries Venus in 12th house: oscillating between shyness and boldness, this native is a mix of curious qualities: fiery passion and flirty banter coupled with increased sensitivity to the needs of his/her partner. Creative, generous, dynamic, there is no dull moment with this native around.

He/She will know how to get to the deepest corners of your soul. He/She is looking for something real, something raw and authentic in you. May not like what he/she finds but wants it nonetheless beacuse it’ll be something special the both of you share.

The lower energies of this placement predispose to escapism, low self confidence, compulsions and difficulties in the dating scene (might start dating late, choose wrong partners or not have strong enough boundaries in relationships).

The higher energies manifest in beautiful, almost self-sacrificing ways: increased generosity and sensitivity to other people, especially children and the elderly, maybe animals too. A certain dreaminess in the way you act, express yourself.

When it comes to making love, you are literal FIRE once you open up and feel ready with the right person. You don’t shy away from new positions, are experimental and might even pull out some sexy lingerie from your drawer (lingerie that nobody else may know about or s*x toys - your secret is safe with me!). Fetishes could be possible but you may not even admit them yourself. 12th house placement could suggest secret love affairs or a special taste for something forbidden. Very careful that you don’t put yourself in situations that disregard your value as a person. Self reflection and journaling could be especially helpful with this position!

Leo Rising: are cool, stylish, proud and regal. Whenever they enter a room you’ll feel a warm and encompassing aura. People notice it and will tend to gravitate towards this native, for good or for worse. Whenever Leo is present, especially in the personal planets, you can expect a certain level of drama and stubbornness. If it’s the ascendant that is in the sign on Leo, the native will have a solid self-confidence, will typically carry herself with much pride and may even be quarrelsome at times. “The queen stands no disrespect” could be their motto. At low expression, Leo rising may continually deny it when they have a problem or refuse to talk about it (mostly out of stubbornness and because they prefer to lick their own wounds and hide them from other people).

Taurus Sun with Cancer Moon: some of the warmest, kindest and most loyal friends you could possibly find. They know the value of the given word, will show up to appointments and will take your secrets to the grave. You can vent to this natives about your problems because they will listen and not be judgmental and will even offer a shoulder for you to cry on.

They are shy at first, especially around strangers but will know to speak up when the situation calls for it. It is perhaps not known about them just how tough they can be. Yes, they may cry easily but will always stand up and move forward. When you annoy they will not only acknowledge it but will also confront you about it. They might not tell you right away that they have a lover for example, even when you are close friends. You ask them why, it’s because “you never asked me yourself”. Truthfully it’s because they value personal relationships and privacy so much. They will not gossip just because they can. And some feelings cannot be simply put to words, they should and could only be shared between the two lovers.

The only low manifestation I see is that they can at times have a very one-track mind, especially if they find an activity they really like. You will ask them 5 times in the span of 2 weeks what they are doing, at different times of day, and they will say “I am dancing” or “I am going riding”. Get the picture?

Gemini with Cancer placements: it can go very different ways, but it will usually lead to a person being very social and having lots of friends and/or lovers. It can lead to “drama queen” behaviour but not always. Native is an emotional kind of speaker and can find common ground with almost anybody. He/She is probably very smart and intuitive. The type of person that will get all the good grades without learning much and will impress almost anybody they meet because of their charm and social skills. He/She could, however, be quite flighty and/or chaotic in everyday life.

When I say the expression of the Moon sign very much depends on the Sun sign, I am not kidding. For example, in case of the Taurus native, the Moon in Cancer amplified his/her “motherlike, feminine” qualities. The two signs felt like they complemented each other. The end result felt harmonious and well-rounded. In the case of the Gemini native, however, it leads to a certain amount of friction, particularly because the signs of Cancer and Gemini have very different manners of relating to life. You can look up the aspects if you want to find out more (I am by no means a professional astrologer only an enthusiast 😆).

At low manifestations it could lead to emotional manipulation, drama queen behaviour, a special taste for quarrelling.

BONUS:

Lilith in the first house: this is not talked about nearly enough - self esteem issues! Lilith being in the house of the self brings a particular type of emotional dilemma, the dilemma of “who am I”. I know it sounds strange, but hear me out. I am sure you’ve already read many other posts that highlight the good qualities of Lilith, until you’ve reached my post, so I will only mention a few: charisma, sex appeal and a mysterious, somewhat rebellious air. It is also said that the native, due to his/her particular kind of aura, will invite partners who will try to tame him/her. I don’t know how true that is, and it is not yet the moment we debate this subject. Perhaps in a future post .

We will talk about the young and naive Lilith who is thrust in this wilderness we call life. She doesn’t know who she is, what she wants and can or cannot do so she stagnates. She observes life and at first tries to be a good girl, always pleasant and accommodating. At first she wants to fit in badly, she want the recognition of others and will do almost anything for it. She needs it like the air she breaths. However, something always happens and her plan never works. Or rather it does, but the price to pay will be exorbitantly high: her whole individuality, her authenticity. But does young Lilith know what’s laying dormant inside her? Being so oblivious of her own authenticity and power, she has nearly lost it completely. She has given in up for someone and now she feels bitter and angry. She has come to a realization. She cannot stand X trait in people(example: dishonesty). Okay, so that means I must be a super honest person or at least value it greatly. Moving on - what’s about loyalty? I think I know something but really am just scratching the surface. Such is the journey of Lilith. A journey of continual self-discovery. It starts with a young, very unsure hero who perhaps is also very naive only to later turn into a determined, empowered, self assured person who will always follow her own path, no matter what other say or do. They will be missteps and perhaps even a few fractures on this journey but it is one only you can embark on in pursuit of the Holy Grail, if you may. At the end of the day, you may realise it has always been inside yourself, hidden, awaiting to be rediscovered and embraced.

Thank you for taking the time to read my post and if you feel you resonate with my writing please leave a comment below and let me know. Would love to chat with you guys.💕

[b1asho]

Wof ocs: land-dwelling seawing and grounded skywing (aka Kelp and Osprey). It’s not like they Can’t swim or fly, but it’s a lot harder for them than the average joe.

I don’t have a whole lot of plot for them; they mostly just travel together avoiding the active battlegrounds and maybe help escort an ailing Mudwing kid to her family at some point. Par for the course with my ocs, they’re both losers. They initially only really hang out together for the mutual benefits: Osprey is intimidating enough to ward off most bandits by looks alone and has a more realistic approach to setting goals and general direction (filling in a leadership role and balancing out Kelp’s lack of a backbone or stranger danger sense and curbing her absurd fantasies ) while Kelp knows a little more about *how* to actually get things done and has a better approximation of people skills (filling in Osprey’s considerable gaps in knowledge about anything that’s not farm animals or military tactics and balancing out his aggressively distrustful demeanor that prevents him from asking for help. She’s also the one who can talk their way into and out of situations) they eventually figure out they’re a good team and more or less hang around each other

Right now I think the two are somewhere on the coast near the Diamond spray delta????(google map of Pyrrhia idk)

Some general info related to what’s on the page:

Every tribe has a lot of regional variety in terms of physical appearance. For skywings, the northern ones are the most populous and have united the other major aeries under the goal of pushing for imperial expansion on the side of burn. Northern skywings have the most dimorphism between males and females as well as the brightest colors out of the skywing region types (females have a very distinct reddish orange coloring while males have duller browns and yellows, as opposed to ospreys group where it’s switched to darker brown f vs lighter brown m) This is because they have the most unbalanced parental care system, where the male raises the chicks alone while the female leaves. No matter the type of physical difference, the social separation is ever present and more or less as extreme (completely matriarchal). An aerie is a nesting area for a group of related individuals, where there is one dominant female, a pool of married-in males (one is chosen every season to be the matriarchs pair), some other female subordinates, and the matriarchs kids (including some adult males). Females are leaders, hunters, and providers while the males do menial labor or domestic, and craft tasks. Among all skywing ethnicities, there are cases of males being born with female coloring or vice versa. Males with female coloring do not have a place in society according to their rules, since they look like a female but can’t lay eggs (meaning they are ‘broken’ in the eyes of their peers. They can’t even participate in making eggs because that would look gay and I’m deciding that theyre homophobic for fun/because of the sanctity they put on the hetero-ness of their everything). They’d normally just be driven out in bigger northern aeries, but Osprey is an exception because of his slightly different culture and because his group needed every worker they could get to survive on their land (he was kinda just treated like a defective female that has to work with the males. Not fun). A female with male coloring is more tolerated ONLY if they stay celibate and out of the way of the “real” females (often, they are just put in all-female homes as an attendant). Ospreys aerie was a small and rural one that practiced subsistence herding/hunting, so it wasn’t hard for a northern recruiter to strong-arm them with a little military coercion and cash into giving up their eligible youths for the draft. He didn’t really feel a particularly strong bond with any of his family group due to their previously described sentiments towards his condition, but it’s still a blow to the ego to know that they sold him off to die for not even one iron ingot. He got lucky with the force he was taken into (they got bronze swords and leather armor, which is more than some other skywing soldiers) but not so lucky with the area he was sent to (Sandwing ambush). After being badly wounded and finding out he was the only survivor, he fled rather than going back to a northern base and has been evading capture (and execution) since. The lack of depth perception/decreased vision in general means he can seriously mess up landing and taking off in crowded areas like a forest, and can’t do a lot of complicated maneuvers anymore. Despite already being jaded and cynical at his big teen age, he’s not really equipped to be on his own at all and has been thrown off the deep end in terms of experiencing the world for the first time.

Seawings live in pods of family members and some outsiders. Unlike other dragons, they are actually led by a pair-bonded male and female rather than it being a female-led harem type thing. This pair are the bulls, and they’re bigger than everyone else because of hormones (they’re the only reproductive members. This is enforced to varying degrees between pods, some larger more organized ones even have legislation about it. Homosexual activity is encouraged to prevent threats to the bulls (aka new kids or a new mating pair). Through interacting with other tribes, some of the more powerful “superpods” made up of multiple family lines have adopted a more female-dominant system where there are still physically distinct bulls but only the female does any governing. For trade and other stuff, too, pods will normally only send their female members since no one else would respect a male. Kelps pod was a mid-sized one that was technically a part of another super pod’s domain, but they only really interacted through some resource taxes and occasional new laws being delivered. Kelp was on the bottom rung of the social ladder and chafed a lot with her pod because of her general weirdness and lack of strong allegiance to her bull (her mother). She still feels sentiment towards them because they raised her, but was never able to fit in. The superpod they were under was allied with blister, making their territory a target for mudwings and skywings. Eventually, Kelp’s pod was affected by this when an ongoing battle between the superpod’s troops and some mudwings spilled into their land. The superpod forces lost and Kelps home was looted, in the process she was burned and separated from the others. For about a week she hung around tending to her own wounds to see if her pod would regroup somewhere, but eventually left to find a real doctor (trying not to think about the implications of them not coming back) it’s been about a month since then, and she has somehow been stumbling by using her craft skills. Shes been robbed several times and has only gotten away with her life thanks to the good ol tail slap+ massive seal teeth jaw strength combo (other than that all her health problems are 100x worse because she’s on land most of the time to avoid Mudwing-patrolled rivers and the hostility of other pods.) She’s never been outside her pods range before and the world is not so great, but she has a positive outlook (some might even say a foolishly optimistic one).

[twilight-zoned-out]

With the Thunderbolts being promoted as the New Avengers, I wanted to see where they would "fit" with the original lineup.

Bob/Sentry - Bruce Banner/Hulk: Bob and Bruce share similar backgrounds and similar "uncontrollable" powers, except the other Thunderbolts seem much more sympathetic and understanding to Bob than the Avengers so hopefully he won't be done as dirty as the MCU did Hulk.

Ava/Ghost - Natasha/Black Widow: Despite there being an actual Red Room person on the team, I think Ava fits the technical slot of Black Widow more. She's good at sneaking into and out of places and can usually find a "last minute" escape for her teammates against the odds. She's reliable but, like Natasha in the earlier films, her teammates wondered about her ulterior motives. Like Nat, Ava also has difficult getting close to others, though in this case it's additionally because of her particle instability.

Alexei/Red Guardian - Thor: Both Alexei and Thor reminisce on their past conquests, holding them in high regard. They also feel a strong duty to their homeland. Like Thor, Alexei is the most openly friendly and carries humor similarly to how Thor would in previous films, sometimes at the expense of being tone deaf to his teammates. Thor was also from a different planet, though, so Alexei is slightly more socially aware.

John Walker - Tony Stark/Iron Man: Self-important, concerned with his own image, kind of a nuisance to deal with, but also "the best" at what he's supposed to do. Deals with a lot of personal issues that the other teammates don't realize (unless someone like Bucky reveals them). Often brings up useful information and strategy. Also, based on his turnaround from FatWS to Thunderbolts, he might end up having the most character redemption/transformation out of the group (depending on however long they intend to use these characters, which will hopefully be a good amount of time).

Bucky Barnes - Steve Rogers/Captain America: Bucky and Yelena were the biggest toss-up between Cap and Hawkeye, but I decided that Bucky is still essentially the main strategist and leader of the group. He's the one who got everyone to their location, he's a super-soldier who wants to se his talents to help but gets fed up by bureaucracy, and it's sort of understood in the group that he has his own private life that doesn't really overlap. He's shown along with Yelena to have the most competent leadership during the end credits, and he's the most well known (aside from John Walker) to the in-universe public, so he has the "oldest" reputation to deal with when he interacts with others.

Yelena - Clint Barton/Hawkeye: Yelena is the glue. Her and Bucky are shown as the most active leaders in the end credits, but she's not flashy in the way that Tony Stark was. She's exceptionally skilled and well-rounded in both strategy and fighting, but her strongest asset is being able to communicate with others. Clint was the most "human" of the group, and he helped keep all of his teammates' personalities from blowing up against each other. Every time he left, the Avengers imploded. Clint was also the most willing to offer second chances, and Yelena shares that willingness to risk herself to help someone else. Like Clint, she doesn't always immediately jump to fighting; she tries to reason with others if fighting isn't necessary. She's the most emotionally open; she realizes and begins to prioritize real relationships and a life outside of the job.

[autisticgingerblonde]

If Fallout 4 companions had TikTok accounts

Cait would have an account dedicated to fighting and thirst traps (aimed at women mostly). Teaches women self-defense techniques. She earns a spot in the algorithm of muscle mommies. She also raises awareness for addicts and former addicts, educating on the effects of drugs and the reasons people seek them out in the first place. Honestly, it's a very good account to follow.

Codsworth is just confused about TikTok. He's like "oh so what are the children saying these days? Aura? I'll have to add a new word to my vocabulary banks! Cheerio, mum!"

Curie makes educational videos for all ages and all subjects. She has a series of learning Japanese, a series of vaccines and the science behind them, a series about the effects of different types of parenting, you name it. She also takes suggestions from her audience on what new things to research.

Danse has unintentional thirst traps. He talks about power armor and the Brotherhood of Steel but also posts workouts. These are what get the most attention out of everything he posts. The BookTok girlies find him and all hell breaks loose in the comment sections. He responds to this with, "Thank you, civilians. I am not sure what you mean, but I am glad you are supporting the Brotherhood of Steel by being on my page. Thank you for your enthusiasm for our righteous cause. Ad victorium." People armchair diagnose him as autistic.

Deacon does "GRWM as i tell you about the time i ______" videos where each day he looks completely different and you can never tell if he's telling the truth or not. He also does head shaving videos that double as story times or opinion pieces. You can't tell if those are true or not either.

Dogmeat has a viral account followed by millions. Get's a lot of "I can't imagine liking this guy" comments with the op replying to their own comment with "anymore than I already do. Huge fan!"

Hancock does subtle cheeky thirst traps and dance challenges. This entire post was inspired by the FACT that Hancock would participate in the brat summer trend and would do the Apple dance with Fahrenheit filming it. He also tells stories, mostly of him being high. He gets a lot of requests to cosplay Deadpool.

MacCready has a lot of things he does. Some videos are sniper trick shots, some are Grognak the Barbarian yapping (he does short lore deep dives when he can), and some are about being a young single dad. He doesn't show Duncan's face because he's extremely protective. Casually drops the most insane lore about his childhood which leads to comments like "are we just ignoring that he said he grew up in a cave?"

Nick Valentine would be a very popular fashion and "a day in the life of a detective". He'd do vintage fashion looks, like loose slacks and suspenders with a trench coat to top it off. Sometimes does a deep dive into detective history. Gets a lot of thirsty comments to which he replies "that's one way to get the coolant pumping."

Old Longfellow has the appeal of the New England, stormy weather, sweater-wearing fisherman aesthetic, and he tells stories of his youth while showing people around the area he grew up. Learns mobile phone cinematography to make it look cooler. Every video has either a lesson or a skill for survival.

Piper's account is solely focused on news and truth, posting every source she uses. She uses the trend of an insane video, like someone falling badly on the ground or getting splashed with water, and stitches it to look like a seamless transition of her rolling from the fall or being splashed to start talking about her news stories. It gets traction so she continues.

Porter Gage has a side gig of running TikTok accounts for different people. Gets the money, doesn't get the backlash when they get canceled for racism or worker exploitation.

Preston has an account dedicated to charity work and social activism. He makes sure to highlight organizations he feels are doing the world a service and regularly has fundraisers. He's well-known for always sharing content from people in dire situations and raising money for them. Has a master document of Go Fund Me pages and vets every one of them.

Strong has a lot of those unintentional boomer tiktoks that are 1 second long and he's just looking at the screen in confusion.

X6 cyber bullies the rest of them because he thinks having a TikTok is cringe and stupid (he is currently writing hate comments with his TikTok account)

[pepelepieuu]

"Not like my parents" Legacy Challenge

A fun sims challenge for those that want to play around with different packs and also have sims babies that grow up "not like my parents".

Basic Rules:

Try to use minimal cheats

You can live anywhere unless otherwise specified

Generation one: Gothic

Think a vibe like the Addams family - A sim that is gothic and is obsessed with everything to do with death and the supernatural. This sim also has a passion for music and collects tarot cards in their spare time.

Traits: gloomy, music lover, macabre

Aspiration: occult aspiration of your choosing OR ghost historian

Career: Undertaker Career or the Reaper Profession

Fave colour: black

Rules:

Master undertaker career or Reaper Profession 

Complete occult aspiration or ghost historian 

Befriend Death (Grim Reaper)

Master a musical instrument and the thanatology skill

Collect all tarot cards

Visit The Other Side of the Veil (turn into a ghost at least once)

_____________________________________________________

Generation two: Modern Skeptic 

You grew up hating your unconventional family and leave your hometown for a different way of life. You’re a skeptic that doesn’t buy into ghosts, the Grim Reaper, or that another world exists beyond. You like facts, science, modern technology, and the REAL WORLD. You’re awkward at love and don’t settle down till later in life, focusing on your career before this. 

Traits: skeptic, genius, romantically reserved

Aspiration: Academic 

Career: Scientist

Fave colour: blue

Rules:

Master Scientist career

Complete academic aspiration

Master logic skill and gaming skill

Do not get married before you’re an adult, partner must work full-time too

Have only one child

Live in different world to one you were raised in 

—————————————————

Generation three: Conservative Country

You grew up a lonely child, your parents were always working and you had no siblings. Your biggest wish is to have a big family. You also found your parents too obsessed with technology and science, and decide to reject it all and become ultra-conservative.

You love the country and live off the land.

Traits: proper, rancher, family oriented

Aspiration: big happy family

Career: make all your money from farming

Fave colour: yellow

Rules:

Have a minimum of 10 kids

Complete big happy family aspiration

Master gardening and parenting skills

Only make money from your farm

Dress conservatively

Reject all electronics

_______________________________________________________

Generation four: Wild Child

You found your parents too restrictive and family waaaay too big. All you want is to have fun, be modern, and listen to music from a stereo. You’re the life of the party, you love dancing and going to karaoke. As a teen you’re rebellious. You don’t believe in monogamy and enjoy dating around.

Traits: party animal, outgoing, romantic

Aspiration: live fast as a teen, party animal as an adult

Career: social media

Fave colour: purple

Rules:

Have max two children

Master dancing, singing, and charisma skills

Master social media career

As a young adult live in an apartment

Date more than 3 people 

Master live fast aspiration as a teen, and party animal as an adult

___________________________________________________

Generation five: Looking for Peace

You found your mother was distant and self-absorbed. She was always going to parties or hosting parties. You just want to have peace and quiet. Be alone and enjoy nature. You also found animals understood you better. 

Traits: vegetarian, loves outdoors, animal enthusiast

Aspiration: country caretaker or freelance botanist

Career: conservationist

Fave colour: green

Rules:

Master conservationist career

Master gardening and flower arranging skill

Master country caretaker or freelance botanist aspiration

Live near nature and only go on camping holidays

Renounce inheritance, and live in basic house with basic clothes

____________________________________________________

Generation six: Materialistic 

You grew up poor, and camped a lot. You found your parents were crazy about nature, and there were always animals in your house. You dream of having money, nice things and being indoors with all its luxuries. You’re passionate about fashion and physical looks, as you grew up dressed always in the same thing.

Traits: materialistic, snob, neat or practice makes perfect

Aspiration: mansion baron or fabulously wealthy

Career: style influencer

Fave colour: gold

Rules:

Master style influencer career

Master mansion baron or fabulously wealthy aspiration

Master fitness skill

Have multiple outfit options

Marry a rich sim

Do not inherit any money

______________________________________________________

Generation seven: Flower Child

Your parents were way too materialistic and obsessed with money. You found it shallow (though you do keep your inheritance). You seek deep connection and a deeper meaning of life. You’re a bit of a hippie, and want to share your musings of life with the world.

Traits: freegan, creative, generous 

Aspiration: zen guru

Career: painter

Fave colour: rainbow

Rules:

Master zen guru aspiration

Master painter career

Master guitar and painting skills

Have permissive family dynamics with your kids

Live near the beach

Keep inheritance

______________________________________________________

Generation eight: Adrenaline Junkie

You found things were relaxing as a kid but you seek adventure! You’re an adrenaline junkie who couldn't keep still as a kid. You didn't want to stay inside meditating, and you value actions over words.

Traits: adventurous, active, self-assured

Aspiration: extreme sport enthusiast

Career: astronaut

Fave colour: orange

Rules:

Master extreme sport enthusiast aspiration

Master astronaut career

Master fitness and handiness skills

Visit Planet Sixam

———-----------------------------------------------------------

Generation nine: Overachiever

You really admired your parents and their zest for life. You want to live up to their expectations and are a bit of an overachiever. You want a “perfect nuclear family”, married with 2 kids who work just as hard as you. You let off steam through vlogging, and imagining how your parent travelled into space. You're a little bit awkward, but mean well.

Eventually, you become burnt out from trying so hard and become a professional vlogger in your adult life. 

Traits: overachiever, socially awkward, perfectionist

Aspiration: super parent

Career: doctor, then simfluencer or video game streamer

Fave colour: white

Rules:

Master super parent aspiration

Have two children

For most of life live in a classic suburban house

Doctor career until adulthood then change to simfluencer or video game streamer

Master painting and media production skills

________________________________________________________

Generation ten: Fabulously Famous

You’re the opposite of a geek. Your parents wanted you to follow in their footsteps but you never enjoyed maths or science. You never did well at school, all you enjoyed doing was performing. You're a charismatic sim who loves being the centre of attention. Your flirty nature means you love to date around. In your spare time you enjoy gourmet cooking.

Traits: romantic, self-absorbed, hot-headed

Aspiration: World-famous celebrity or musical genius

Career: actor or entertainer

Fave colour: red

Rules:

Master world-famous celebrity aspiration or musical genius aspiration

Master actor or entertainer career

Master acting (or instrument) and gourmet cooking skills

Move to Del Sol Valley

________________________________________________________

Generation 11: Full Circle

You felt your parents were out of touch with the world and their roots. You’re into family history and learn the first of your long line were sims obsessed with death. You enjoy visiting the family graves, respecting your ancestors, and writing about your family history. Though your ancestors were obsessed with death, you love love. You have so much love to give and want to share it with the world! 

Traits: love bug, cheerful, family-oriented

Aspiration: serial romantic aspiration

Career: romance consultant

Fave colour: pink

Rules:

Master romance consultant 

Master serial romantic aspiration

Visit the graves of your ancestors and interact with ancestors who are now ghosts

Max romance and writing skill

Choose one of the 11 generations to be reborn

[id0what1want]

Carmine.

I've been reserved, but I'm gonna come out and say it. Carmine is a very multifaceted character just like her brother, and similarly to him, many people like to pick and choose what they evaluate to simplify her into something either hyper-villified or super one note 'she didn't mean it, and nothing is her fault'. The truth of the matter is that the Teal Mask is a messy situation and trying to figure out who is at fault is beside the point cuz blaming Carmine or Kieran or the player or anything else ruins the nuance and the complexity.

A lot of Carmine's mischaracterization comes from the fact that all of her dialogue is not directly indicative of her character and often isn't exactly one to one how she feels about something. Carmine is a character that struggles a LOT with conveying/receiving tone and is very prone to misunderstanding AND being misunderstood.

Her relationship with Kieran is by no means perfect and way more realistically messy than most fictional sibling portrayals. Many sibling relationships, ESPECIALLY the ones between a sister and brother, have very harsh rivalries, especially at certain age differences. There is constant competition since they're just old enough to want the same things, but far enough apart to claim seniority. I should also mention that throwing neurodivergence into the mix is even MORE volatile, especially the kind that we're working with when it comes to the Kitakami siblings.

It would not surprise me at all if Carmine was also bullied by her peers and it just presented differently. Carmine herself is socially oblivious and has a lot of pride so it seems like snide comments would roll of her back- but look at the things that Carmine cares about. Beauty, power, coolness. She's fiercely loyal to Mossui Town and Kieran was canonically bullied for coming from 'the boonies'. It's not far to venture that Carmine herself suffered the same treatment and her hostility towards outsiders in her hometown stems from that.

Carmine also DOES think highly of Kieran. She thinks he is a skilled trainer and also knows that he has thick skin because they grew up together. They also grew up together without their parents or other kids significantly in the picture. Even with their grandparents, this leads to a dynamic where Carmine and Kieran have each other first and foremost. They share blood and that doesn't count for nothing, and even further they share traits by nature because of it. Both siblings have a deep-set jealous streak and sense of pride, one that isn't immediately relatable to everyone and can even isolate them from other people, but not necessarily from each other. She looks out for his best interest, though it doesn't always come off right.

Carmine isn't self-aware majority of the time. When she is rude, it's not always intentional and her expression of her thoughts or emotions isn't always accurate because Carmine feels strong, complicated things. It's a struggle to verbose them correctly and she seems not to have been taught how to regulate or voice her emotions accurately, instead expressing herself through HER means instead of everyone else's. When Carmine defends Kieran's mask before the festival, that is an expression of her love. When she seeks out the player despite her distaste specifically on Kieran's behalf, that is an expression of her love. Carmine's actions are normally very well-intentioned but don't always come out that way. As a neurodivergent person myself, I completely understand this.

When she lies to Kieran about the ogre, she is attempting to preserve his friendship with the player and his bond with her, and it's because she KNOWS Kieran will be jealous. Was it wrong to do that? Totally! Was she right down the line. Also yes. Carmine does take full responsibility in being Kieran's sister and takes that role very seriously. Turning Kieran over to the player like she did in the beginning is actually a big sign of maturity from Carmine we don't see super often. She swallows her jealousy and pride, risking Kieran finding some outsider cooler than her, because she wants him to have friends outside of her despite being naturally possessive.

Carmine has a very strong sense of justice and this twists when applied to her relationship with Kieran. The two bicker a lot and have a strong leader-follower dynamic, with Carmine sometimes bullying Kieran into listening to her. Carmine is normally not taken seriously outside of Kieran and feels the need to berate people into respecting her. It's not right, but it's how she feels. It's not healthy but it's also not completely abnormal for siblings to be like this. My own siblings are like this and as a family unit we have all fought for dominance, not always in savory, healthy ways. I'm not saying she's right- I'm saying she's a teenage girl that deals with things in messy ways because she's a teenage girl. Kieran often gets the teenager pass (granted, he is younger.) but I also see Drayton getting the teenage pass when he's of comparable or older age than Carmine.

Drayton is also a hot topic with Carmine. Setting aside my own hcs, their objective relationship is antagonistic both ways. Drayton is of course not the devil Carmine treats him as, but it's very well established that Carmine struggles a) to read people and b) to warm up to people. It doesn't help that Drayton goes out of his way to irritate and antagonize her. It's not extreme of course, but Carmine is distrusting, and angers easily which Drayton is amused by. There is NOTHING more annoying than getting mad at something and somebody laughs in your face. Especially from a neurodiverse and bullied perspective- what Drayton is doing is NOT bullying- but Carmine again likely grew up bullied and made fun of, specifically FOR her temper. Growing up, older boys would deliberately irritate me to the point of a meltdown because they thought it was funny to watch me freak out. Things like that are stressful and also SUPER impact emotional regulation in a person. And while Carmine is aggressive, she senses a scheme from Drayton against her brother. She is already insanely loyal to Kieran and after her shortcomings in the Teal Mask she's DEFINITELY going to be hypersensitive about not making Kieran any worse. Drayton being cryptic and treating it all so lightly is bound to get on her nerves, and he already violates her sense of justice with his behavior. Don't get me wrong, I love Drayton, but he also has the emotional intelligence to know better to act in certain ways that he does. What Carmine is doing is essentially a cat puffing up and swiping at a perceived threat, and instead of calming the cat down, Drayton agitates it further to tease it. Carmine, while aggressive with her words, is actually surprisingly tame and restrained. It's obvious to me at least that she is trying to regulate herself and is not nearly aggressive as she could be. Carmine to me in this situation is barking but not biting- she's looking out for the safety of everyone around her, but she can't make a sound enough judgement of his intention to actually bite so she isn't going to. Carmine doesn't genuinely want to hurt Drayton. She has a temper, especially a verbal one, that he pokes fun at and thus she has a negative association with him.

I guess I'm just reallllly tired of people acting like Carmine and Kieran are either completely innocent, erasing the complicated writing behind their actions, or holding them to an unfair moral standard since it's pretty obvious that these kids should have been seeing a behavioral therapist and had more intervention growing up. (Behavioral therapy is not a desperate need but also I firmly believe that most kids should see therapists, even if they're having troubles on this medium a scale. Carmine and Kieran aren't nonfunctional, but they also weren't taught strategies to self-regulate which seeing a therapist would've helped with growing up).

Also the vilification of autistic traits in women pisses me off. Like can we please not condemn Carmine for shit that we actively excuse in other characters, please and thank you. She's not a raging bitch but she's also not the well-mannered pretty girl people want her to be. Women are slightly bitchy and suddenly that's grounds to excuse awful treatment of them and c'mon guys.

[kettleinusefornow]

Rough ride.. MDNI

Sae Itoshi X Reader fic

Contains breakup and miscommunication

Revenge sex

Iceskater!reader

eventual happy ending </3

teenage love

ALOT of angst

CHP2 CHP LIST

CHAPTER 1: Pleasant Surprise

YEAR 2008

You guys meet for the first time at the Itoshi residence. 

“You guys are Rin and Sae Itoshi!” Y/N was always an extreme extrovert unlike the brothers.

“Hey..” Sae greeted as Rin shyly hid behind him looking at Y/N with starry eyes. It’s obvious that Sae was slightly cautious since this was the point where he started getting recognised for his football skills.. So a lot of people only approached him with ulterior motives.

“Sooo wanna go play Mario kart..?“ Y/N pointed at the couch in front of the TV.

They somehow, despite their obvious differences,  became friends.. 

YEAR 2009 

Well they were closer now. That’s for sure. Y/N was part of their daily life, since they were in the same school.

“Move it grinch hair!!” 

“Get the hell away dufus!” 

Y/N and Rin were basically siblings. Sae was still.. Distant? No, more like he was just socially awkward. 

Y/N and Rin played with their dinosaurs while Sae was behind them eating a popsicle on the bench. 

“Oni-Chan! This monkey keeps trying to kill my Dino!” 

“Am not!”

Sae sighed. “Y/N you are the older one you should be nicer.. I think..”

YEAR 2012

 Sae started middle school so he was always away in school or on the field. This was the time when Rin and Sae started sharing a dream to become No.1 and 2 strikers. Y/N always thought it was a little presumptuous but she never discouraged them from their dream. 

Rin and Y/N  were walking to Sae’s game that was happening at the field. 

“So you know that my brother has a crush on you right?” Y/N almost spit out the lollipop that she had in her mouth.

“Okay how did you come up with that conclusion, broccoli boy..” 

“Well.. he always dresses up nice and tries extra hard on the field when he sees you.. Isn’t that enough?”

Well.. He isn’t wrong.. Y/N was young but not dumb. 

“Yeah but maybe you are overthinking it Rin, Sae is basically a blockhead no way he would have thought about me while playing football..”

“I guess..” 

Y/N was almost taken aback by how easily Rin agreed with her.

The game ended and Sae was walking home with them. Tailing behind the two of them. Sae had his eyes on her head as he turned and lazily glanced around. All of sudden, Rin asked a question that set Sae out of his daze.

“So when is Nee-San gonna date Oni-Chan?” He asked so casually that Y/N didn’t even process it completely before exploding with pink and red dusted on her cheeks. Rin turned his head back and looked at Sae for an answer. Y/N also looked at him with a flustered expression. Sae had a blank expression but finally answered after a few seconds. 

“Probably when we are older.” Y/N was now completely red. She was shocked and started running home. Neither of the brothers chased her.  

“Woah Oni-Chan, seems like you actually have a chance..”

YEAR 2013

The year that 13 year old Sae was gonna go to Spain for his football career.

Rin was at home with a headache. Y/N and Sae went to the park for some fresh air and to buy some snacks for Rin. 

“Y/N..” She turned to look at Sae who was beside her. Both of them were on the swing as she waited for him to continue his sentence.

“Promise me you won’t get mad?” Y/N got a little scared about what he was gonna say. 

Y/N and Sae started dating when she started junior high. He confessed to her in a traditional yet cheesy way by giving her a letter and going on a vacation with his family the next day. She always had a thing for him.. It’s Sae. It was your normal middle school sweetheart romance and they thought they would last forever. 

“Arggh why do you sound ominous!? Just spit it out..” Y/N said swinging on the same nostalgic swing he confessed to her on.

“I’m going to Spain for a few years.” There. He said it. A few seconds of silence followed before Y/N spoke out.

“You idiot! You scared me! You’ll come back after a few years anyways it’s not a big deal! Just don’t cheat on me and don’t ignore my letters..” Y/N said with a loud voice that got quieter the more she spoke.

Sae suddenly started laughing. Y/N was dumbfounded.. Was him going to Spain for a few years making him insane? “W-what’s so funny?!” 

“Nothing. You have to promise me you will still love me when I come back.” Sae said, with a big grin on his face and staring at her with a soft blush across his face. Y/N groaned and nodded as if it was the obvious.

The day finally arrived. The day of Sae’s departure. Y/N promised not to cry but shiny droplets fell down her face. Rin stood by her side as the both of them waved goodbye to Sae who was smiling at them warmly the whole time. 

YEARS BETWEEN 2013 AND 2018

Y/N sent him letters and of course he replied to them. Not much but he replied at least once every 5 letters. Soon you got your first smartphone. You guys texted often, not much but from time to time due to the difference of time zones. Sometimes your messages would be left on delivered for a whole week. His replies got dryer, being left on seen more.. Both Y/N and Rin brushed it off as him being busy. They had no other reason to think he was being rude or trying to distance himself. Realistically speaking it wasn’t a big deal.. Yet. 

After 4 years the messages which were being sent turned into once every 2 or 3 months. Y/N was getting busy with her school and friends. Rin still trained every single day for the pair's shared goal. Suddenly one cold evening, Y/N sent a message.. It turned.. Green?

“What the?? What’s going on?” Y/N texted Rin telling him what happened. He said he hasn’t texted him in awhile so he doesn’t know. 

“Okay let’s calm down.. Maybe it was a misclick? I don’t know.. ugh.. whatever. I’ll see him soon enough I’ll just.. tolerate it until then?” Y/N knew she shouldn’t think too much about it after seeing Rin’s reply.

YEAR 2018

Y/N heard the news he arrived.. But how did she hear it? Rin knocked on her house door. Eyes rimmed in red and hopelessness. He asked if he could stay there for the night. Y/N forced Rin to tell her what the hell had happened earlier that night..

She was.. shocked? No.. Disappointed? Not that. Maybe taken aback? She silently left the guest bedroom where Rin was in and went to the living room. Would he be there if she went knocking right now? Y/N got up and told her parents she was gonna go next door to greet them. The two families knew about Y/N and Sae’s relationship and thought it was just a cute reunion about to unfold. Sae’s parents weren’t home since they went to a small get together and would be back after midnight probably. 

Y/N nervously knocked on the door.. 

“Yes?-“ piercing mint teal eyes shot through her as it stared at her with no emotion.. She couldn’t think at all for a second. Sae was different. Yes much more handsome as he is 18 now but.. different emotionally too. The half lidded her eyes widened a little as it looked at her, in the dark with snow falling around her. Why did he look so.. pale and almost like a child abandoned..?

“Sae?” This small word was followed by silence. The only sounds that surrounded them were the leaves rustling and wind howling. Y/N swore it felt like time had just stopped. Sae looked at her with exasperated and drained eyes. 

The silence finally broke when Sae said something. “What do you want?” 

Oh.

Oh. 

©kettleinuse4now | please do not translate, repost, refer without permission | don’t steal and say it’s your own (ahole behavior)

[sapphiccup]

Burning Blue...

Word count: 1.3k

Pairing: Abby x reader

Cw: Slow burn <3 series…. //light panic attacks descriptions, awkward conversation, slightly suggestive, warning there will be nsfw in later chapters, Malnourished abby for the first few chapter, trust issues, anxiety, yep, gay stuff. MDNI AND CIS MEN -> DNI!

Summary: Abby is in quite the pickle, she is trying to get back in the real world again after dealing with so many cross roads with life. Scared to make the the wrong move again, however a certain someone pushes her to get back out there with life again. And once she does take that step.. well. Let’s find that out together, shall we?

Dc!:@/mmadeinheavenn

Song: Burning blue by Mariah the Scientist🧪💎

Prologue…ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

You sat on the same couch with a woman who is particularly on the more buffer side than most. She’s new, different, doesn’t speak a lot in your little village you call home. Home away from out there.

You could say, it’s like freedom from the real world.

Freedom in more ways than one, it felt as though this home of yours was so mundane that even this quiet woman has been accustomed to it. So accustomed that.. she’s forgotten about human touch, and would like to remind the both of you, how good it feels to be human again. Not weapons, not survival, just.. human.

In doing so—- here it all began. One hand on your thigh, and the other around your waist, a kiss so tender pulling away from your now warm swollen lips, panting in unison. The scent of arousal permeated the air,<- (credits to moonie for this highlighted line) like a spark to a flame as if it was strong as gaz de pétrole liquéfié.

But before you got here, there was quite a story that begun a little like this…

She arrived months ago with some kid, named Lev. He’s also quiet, but more like speaks when spoken to,

quiet. Cuts the bullshit and gets to the point. Got along quickly with that one. So, quickly, they figured you and Abby should meet. And after a while of insisting over and over again. You finally, exhaustedly gave in. Dragging your feet behind them, as they walked up the stairs upon a porch, knocking on the door. You suddenly understood that you felt more nervous than before, meeting this unknown silent woman. Who definitely looks like they’ve seen more shit than they should have. You took purchase to the ground instead of the porch, rocking back and forth on your heels to the tips of your shoes. Arms behind your back, as if you were a kid again, nervous to say hi to the new kid in class or you are the new kid. In your 20’s feeling more vulnerable than before, odd that those feelings are crawling over your skin, that you claimed has thickened. It was hot too, the sticky kind of hot, and of course you’d pick the ground under the beaming sun instead of her porch with a sun roof to banish momentarily hot rays. Another knock to the door came. You’d hear some heavy steps come near the door, whipping your head upwards to see. Abby.

“What’s up Lev?” She asks, only peering a bit out of her white door. Her face barely out the door, only able to see her nose.

“It’s time to get out and actually socialize. Like we practice” Lev urged them, with a slight groan to their cords.

“Ah, yes, definitely tell the whole village that as well Lev, thank you. Appreciate you so much..”

“Oh, is this what this sarcasm you spoke of before feels like?”

“Yeah— ugh, you know what.. we’ll work on your sarcasm skills later”

“Cold, okay see you—I’m gonna go work on a few cars today” he said turning on his heel, speeding down the stairs, giving you a cheeky smile before heading towards back into town.

“I- wai-“ She reaches out for them but they are already gone. Poor Abby, after years of finally finding a place she feels she can relax, she finds herself in quite the pickle to actually start speaking to people again. Feeling as though she doesn’t even deserve a friend after.. the Seattle incident. She slips through the door and out there she goes, greeting you with a nod, and an awkward bitten lip.

…

“So..” She starts off, with hands in her pockets, trying to regain some kind of comfortability. Or control.. You introduce yourself before this entire thing you’ve prepared takes off like a failed paper airplane. “—Lev said you needed some company, so here I am.” You continued, noticing her eyebrows raised, and a hint of pink embarrassment kisses her appled cheeks. “Yeah… I- you know..—-“

“I’m sorry I’m just..— not used to being insisted that I need to get back out there and socialize. Been a while.. with infected out there and.. all” is what she chooses to say as eels slip down her back, her once rosed hinted face now blanched with paleness. The memories of what she's done, the mistakes that were made, the karma that was dealt, the two sides of the same coin situations, everything that she wish she could take back and do differently… The conversation with Mel especially still lingers and has made a terrible cocoon in her mind. Ready to just pop open one day. But of course she sticks with the story that would be more common to share than her past of many unique decisions.

“Uh-huh…” you began,

“Well, I’ve been here for at least 5 years. Truly—- since the buildings used to be just scraps and what not.. but here we are.. heh, ha— um.. anyways… D-don’t really see you around the dining hall?” You bambled, blubbed, your sentence, wanting to just crawl back into your bed and sleep off whatever silly nerves are trying to camp in your nervous system.

“Yeah?”

This conversation is clearly not going anywhere! Might as well switch it up, you are afterall “You haven’t been able to meet everybody, and we’re all soooo curious about you”

“Is— is that sarcasm?”

“Maybe” you respond with a playful smolder, you manage to get a quirked eyebrow from this mysterious woman, and for that.. that is a win of sorts. Though, you fwip your head away from her, teeth dragging against your chapped bottom lip.

“Huh, didn’t pick you to have that kinda of humor” She states, as she slowly walks down the stairs. You turn back your attention to her as those wooden stairs creak under her. The closer she gets the more you notice how tall she actually is, and if you didn’t know any better. You took a step back, caught off guard from the height. In fact your eyes wander a bit more, not pervertedly of course just.. observing her physique. She wore a black wife pleaser, some dark blue jeans, her hair slightly chopped in a… interesting style.. seems like a struggle with scissors but that is no matter. Maybe she’d like a haircut some day by one of the friendly locals.. however you’re careful to not just bring that up yet. You’d also ponder if she had a muscle regression before getting here, unless you are mistaken from her stretch marks on her arms. Abby rubbed the back of her neck letting out a grunted ‘ahem’. You regain your focus with a twiced blink and ears are hot as ever.

“Maybe you should pick a little harder, miss socially inept” you jested, a little poke of fun wouldnt hurt after being caught for starring… you’ll apologize in your own way later tonight.

“Ha.. haa, okay watch yourself— I didn’t say you we’re that funny”

“Wait till you get to know me some more, maybe you’ll be smiling one day”

“Yeah, good luck with that” Abby muttered to herself, rolling her eyes. Reminding herself that maybe this is what she needed. Something familiar, conversation, regardless of how oddly blunt you are. Some directness would be nice for once. No wondering in her ocean of a mind if she made a fool of herself with you with your kind of attitude.

And just from that one conversation, things moved slow, then a bit quick, then slow again, but as time moved on, the more you both figured, this is okay. At first you figured you both are a little weird, but honestly this is the most at peace she’s been in a while. So fuck it if you’re weird, fuck it if you’re a little blunt. Just fuck it. At least you’re not something that represents her past. And thank fuck for that too.

Of course Abby didn’t just bounce back outta no where though, hell no?. There were her good days, and her bad days. The panic attacks from when the position of night terrors that favored her dad dying to her being afraid of dying herself. The pain and regret fostering in her soul, leaving traces in her finger tips, and the blood that was once there by her friend Manny, still haunts her. To a point where she find herself rubbing that spot on her face, washing her face longer than usual, or just full on diving full face in her bathtub— when taking a simple bath.

She hasn’t even told Lev this situation of hers, don’t wanna burden anyone in her mind that is. However those small conversations you have with each other helps. Only on her good days though.

Her bad days, you could tell if they were about to erupt. The bad blood that she would spill, those tiny curses of something minor slipping out in big crowds when something or someone went wrong, even just a regular hand on the back had her fidgeting more than usual.

And asking her if she’s okay? Out of the question. She just leaves and goes home. Little did you know, she just cry from how not okay she is. The realization of it all tumbling down for her and not knowing how to fix it. She feels as though she must fix it. To be “normal” again, not as feeble as some skittish deer. Is what she would refer herself to when she calms down from her episodes.

Sometimes, something thicker than water can either help you with life, or drown you, pulling you down like a creature of the deep. That’s what it felt like for Abby everyday. Something creeping on her skin as if one day her past will just burst through the door or she herself blabbed a bit too much about what she’s done. Scared of being perceived the way she used to be seen.

Until one day after a month of knowing you something happens…

Prolouge||continue?->

A/n: Hello! I never wrote a Abby x reader before, and I want to make this a slow burn with some real life situations that reader and Abby could go through together. This is just my take on how Abby could be like if she were to go back to civilization again especially after dealing with the rattlers. It had to been added upon trauma? In so in this series it will be Abby and reader trying to tame the tides of her traumas/secrets/and most of all her episodes that come and go. 💋☁️

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

What did you think of the eternity float story? I know you’ve said before you prefer events with strong storytelling/writing so I was wondering if this one hit the mark for you?

Any hometown event comes with the usual shortcomings of a hometown event. Low stakes, a lot of eating and souvenir shopping, etc. Eternity Float is no different from previous hometown events in that regard.

BUT!! ☝️🤓 Putting aside my J word and TLM bias (although I’m the type of person that evaluates media MORE harshly, not less, when the characters/media I like are involved), I do think Eternity Float is a step up from most other hometown events because it is slightly more ambitious. I’d argue that the highlight of this event’s story isn’t the wedding/Eternity Float, but instead the subtler secondary plot about how Jade has changed since his childhood + middle school days. Throughout the event, there are many details that feed into this recurring idea of Jade once not having interest in land or not having the belief that he could comfortably be on land. Then he becomes curious somewhere along the way and starts dreaming and working toward that dream. He decides to stop staring longingly at the land to become a part of it. And knowing just how competent he is in other areas now (such as being able to meet all of Vil’s demands; see: Jade Dorm Uniform vignettes)?? How much extra work did he have to put in to get to this point?? Jade isn’t a natural genius like Floyd is; Jade has actually had to put in tons of time and energy to develop all these skills, to learn the polite mannerisms of his mother, to present as pleasant, etc.

Jade genuinely expresses multiple times in Eternity Float that he is grateful to have made these memories with everyone. He also talks about how his past self would be amazed to see himself today more than once. We hear stories of him in the sea but also hear about how he’d visit Ultramarine City to actively learn about life on land. We meet his old land boot camp instructor. Just listening to him share about his experiences, you get the sense that he really worked hard to be able to walk and study on land as competently as he can today. It carries that wistful and hopeful and determined spirit of Ariel, and it harkens back to TLM source material without being outright stated.

We hear from Georgina, his mother, about how she frequently worries about Jade and is glad he has friends that support him and try to understand him. Now, this could also be said for the other family members we meet in hometowns, but the difference here is that Georgina’s worries actually help in scaffolding Jade’s growth. She is concerned about how Jade is faring on land because she may be aware her son is a literal fish out of water and may have lacked confidence before—but now she is put at ease after seeing that Jade does have a social circle and is having fun on land. (The only other parent whose worries about their kid has major story relevance is Dylla in White Rabbit Fest, as Deuce would later go on to honorably win the Rabbit Run against delinquents that had disrespected her. By the way, I also consider White Rabbit Fest to be one of the better written hometowns.)

This is especially important because we see in his book 7 dream that Jade, above all else, believes in himself. Eternity Float is the character growth Jade needed for book 7, it’s done sooo much better than his actual Draconia-induced dream BUT I DIGRESS— To imply that there was a point in time in which he did not have that confidence in regards to living on land is really fascinating and also implies previous growth. It manages to walk the line of keeping Jade mysterious—which is a large part of his appeal to a certain fanbase—while also demonstrating to us how his character has developed over time.

The event still has missed opportunities, of course. We could have gotten a better glimpse into Jade’s past if he actually knew the bride and groom instead of being complete strangers. Or maybe the land boot camp instructor we ran into in town could have been introduced sooner or stuck around for longer to drop more lore about kid!Jade. Still, I think it’s overall a bit stronger than the usual hometown event. Nowhere near the quality of Glorious Masquerade, mind you, but for sure one of my favorite hometown events.

[beneathsilverstars]

Hello, there! So, in the secret passage, we learn that Odile had a “hate-crush,” so how do you think it went? (I am an aro Odile believer—)

And, second question, do you think the implication that Bonnie has no friends is one of the reasons they act the way they do? (Besides not having memories of their parents, which definitively would mess a kid up, even if it’s for the best.) I feel there is more to Bonnie’s character than it seems, I just don’t know how to word it properly, sorry.

(answered the first part here)

Bonnie's really interesting, because in some ways they're a very well-written child character, but it's like... sometimes they seem like a well-written 12 year old and sometimes they seem like a well-written 7 year old? Which makes sense, because id5 has said they don't know a lot about kids — it seems she has good intuition for the emotional arc on account of children are obviously just people who haven't had a lot of practice yet, but she isn't familiar with the like, developmental milestone timelines. But! Hey! There are plenty of reasons for kids to be behind average in various areas! So we can absolutely run with some Watsonian theories here.

Tbh I need to replay the game with this topic in mind bc I'm starting to forget exactly which Bonnie moments struck me as pre-preteen. But one of the big ones is that the amount and type of words they have trouble pronouncing is more what I'd expect from a 4-5 year old; my 5 year old recently took a couple tries to get "onigiri" right, but I can't remember the last time she mispronounced something before that. So I think Bonnie might have some kind of language or auditory processing issues, or maybe Nille (or the whole region they're from) speak a different language more often than Vaugardian or something.

Bonnie doesn't mention any friends, but they also barely mention Nille, so maybe they don't have any but maybe they just don't want to think about anyone from Bambouche. But I like to say they don't have any because no one in this party does! Family, acquaintances, coworkers or classmates, but no true close friends. And it would just makes sense, y'know? Bonnie and Nille were newcomers in a small village, which isn't a status you shake easily, especially when you're weird in other ways. And there's no way Bonnie wouldn't have been weird at first — whatever age they were when Nille ran away with them, they would've been behind in social-emotional skills. And once you're the weird kid, you don't get as many chances to socialize, and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Even if people were perfectly nice, it makes a difference to be the person who hasn't been good friends with everyone else since preschool.

But that's just peer relationships — by canon I think Bonnie has pretty well caught up on general emotional skills. They're dealing with several very traumatizing situations and handling them surprisingly well! Preteens are known for being a bit angry and angsty, I'm not gonna hold it against them when they react that way to their friend/idol losing a whole eye right in front of them. (This is why I think Nille must have done some therapy and gotten pretty damn good at emotional regulation, if she's raised such a well-regulated and reasonable kid, despite everything.)

And actually, their relative maturity in some ways coulda kinda work hand-in-hand with their relative immaturity in other ways, when it comes to a lack of friendships. It's just another way of being weird, y'know? (<- my "autistic kid who ends up hanging out with adults because they don't vibe with their peers" bonnie agenda)

Overall, though, I feel like we do know a little less about Bonnie than anyone else... Their friend quest is about their relationship with Siffrin, so it doesn't give as much backstory context as everyone else's. And they joined the party because Siffrin found them half-dead, so we don't get the same information about what motivates them as we do with Isabeau and Odile. I think I extrapolate a lot of my Bonnie headcanons/characterizations just from the general themes and trends of ISAT. And then some of it is intertwined with my Nille analysis — the way kids act tells you a lot about how they were raised, and the way kids were raised obviously affects how they act. (Here's some of my more-specific thoughts about that with Bonnie.)

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #09 死

† leather jacket †

“You always knew alcohol could be intoxicating in its own way—but sometimes it takes a few more drops of vodka and some leather jackets for the effect to really seep into your veins."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 5.5k

rating: mature

content: drinking, lowkey hints being dropped, sope bantering like a married couple, truth or dare, V being a lil shit, clothes swap, sexual tension, leather jackets and their scent lingering on your body

☠ author's note ☠

OOOOP? Early chapter drop? Yup yup! Your support and enthusiasm reaching the goal for FMU 14 has truly motivated me and I was honestly SO hyped to post this and see you guys reactions? 👀

Not me having written a completely different version of how this chapter could have gone and keeping it from you all… (◕‿◕✿)

What can I say? That's what happens when you’re sad and horny. Don't worry though, I've saved it for… research purposes???

ANYWAY! There will be time for that in the future. Many times. Many, many times. cackles maniacally while typing

Is the slow burn slow burning enough for you? I don't know about you, but I LIVE for that charged atmosphere where every accidental brush of hands feels like someone dropped a toaster in a bathtub. The lingering stares! The almost-moments! The internal screaming! Beautiful stuff, truly.

And we're finally delving deeper into the plot! Nine chapters in and you finally know the reason behind the number one rule of the gang. Took long enough, right? In my defense, building tension is an art form, and I am but a humble disaster pretending to be an artist.

Also, yes, the goal is right below at the end of the chapter. It's ridiculously high because you all TERRIFY ME. Last time I set it at 100 thinking "this should take them a few days at least" and y'all demolished that in less than 24 hours. :))))) So suffer the consequences of your own enthusiasm, hoes lovely people. 🥰

Also because smut is on the horizon, and I'm 100% going to make you work for it because I'm the god of this fictional universe and chaos is my love language. Start engaging, peasants! Your frustration fuels me. 🙂‍↕️

(A bit unrelated but if you’re feeling particularly generous, I’d appreciate if you could go give some love to the stories on my wattpad? Our numbers are quite low over there! Also—reminder that the goal in Wattpad is a lot lower and it works the same as the one here, so… just sayin’.)

⚔ socials ⚔

read on ao3

read on wattpad

tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

The walk back to the bonfire feels like playing hopscotch between shadows and firelight. There's gang members scattered around like party decorations, laughing and drinking like it's literally their only worry.

You reach Jeon first, holding out his whisky. When his fingers brush yours, something electric zips through your skin. He takes the glass quickly—but not quick enough to hide that moment of hesitation.

"Thanks," he mutters, voice softer than usual—not as stormy as it usually is.

You just nod, trying to ignore how your skin tingles where he touched you.

Stop being a stupid bitch. 

You fish out a beer from your hoodie and pass it to Takama.

"Here."

"Thanks!" Takama's grin is always genuine, you notice.

You drop onto the bench next to Yunjin, whose bubblegum hair looks almost neon in the firelight. She brightens when you hand her the other beer.

"You're actually the best," she declares, popping the tab. "What'd you get?"

You lift your glass. "Vodka lemonade. Moon knows his stuff."

"It's weird seeing everyone so... normal," she muses, watching the crowd. "Like we're just regular people having drinks."

"Right?" You take a sip, enjoying the perfect balance of sweet and sharp. "No ranks, no murder plots. Just vibing."

She hums. "Moon's got skills though. That drink looks good."

"He's amazing at it." Another sip confirms it. "Said he wanted to own a bar once. Can you imagine? Our Deputy Commander mixing drinks in some cozy pub?"

"That's... actually kind of perfect for him?" Yunjin tilts her head. "He's got that whole calm, 'everything's under control' energy. Makes perfect sense as to why RM would choose him as his right hand."

"Yeah." You swirl your drink, thinking about what he said earlier. "Makes you wonder what everyone else wanted to be before... all this."

She goes quiet for a moment. "Weird how we all ended up here, huh? Different paths leading to the same psychotic family."

"At least the company's good." You bump her shoulder with yours.

"Yeah." Her smile turns soft. "Really good."

The vodka warms your chest, or maybe it's just the way Yunjin leans against you, comfortable and familiar.

Eunchae suddenly throws her arms around you and Yunjin, all tipsy affection and bright smiles. Her body sways slightly, using you both for balance.

"My favorite bitchessss," she sing-songs, words already slurring. "How're you doing?"

Yunjin melts into the group hug, giggling. "Just vibing. How many drinks have you had?"

"Who's counting?" Eunchae's laughing in that drunken way she has when she's on her third glass of rum. "It's a party!"

You snort, patting her arm. "Maybe slow down though? Night's still young."

"And I plan to make the most of it!" She beams like it's the most brilliant plan ever.

The moment shatters when V practically twirls into the firelight, radiating that chaotic energy that always accompanies him wherever he goes.

His smile, of course, is all teeth—sharp and bright.

"Heeeey everyone!" He throws his arms wide, commanding attention like he was born for it. "Let's remember why we're here! Celebrating our dear leader taking over after his brother got fucking murdered!"

The crowd actually cheers—because of course they do. V could probably announce the apocalypse and make it sound fun. But J-Hope steps in, doctor mode activated.

"V." His tone carries a warning. "Dial it back."

V rolls his eyes like a teenager caught sneaking out, but his grin never falters. You sense weird vibes oozing off him under that playful expression he wears—but it's like he's wrapped it in enough charm that it goes unnoticed.

Or maybe you're reaching?

"His brother's dead?" The words slip out before you can stop them. You turn to J-Hope, curiosity burning. "What happened?"

J-Hope sighs, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. His fingers tap against his thigh—a nervous tell if you know how to spot one.

"It's not exactly classified," he says carefully, weighing each word. "But it's... complicated. RM wasn't always in charge. The gang belonged to his brother first."

You exchange looks with Yunjin, both leaning in slightly. This is the kind of story that explains so much about how Kkangpae operates.

About why certain rules exist.

J-Hope's face contorts in the dim light, shadows dancing over his features he debates how much to share. V watches from across the flames, that sharp smile still in place, like he's enjoying the tension he's created.

"His brother?" Yunjin's eyes go wide with curiosity.

"It's about betrayal," J-Hope says, voice dropping low. "RM's brother led Kkangpae before him. His fiancée sold him out to MDF, and..." He trails off, letting the implication hang in the air.

A chill runs down your spine despite the bonfire's warmth.

"So RM had to take over?"

J-Hope nods, running a hand through his hair.

"Nam—" He catches himself, clearing his throat. "RM stepped up when everything was falling apart. Gang was splitting at the seams, losing territory to MDF."

"Built it back from nothing," Chaewon adds quietly. "That's why he's so strict about relationships. He's seen what they can do to people."

You notice Jeon tense at that last part on your periphery, though he's trying to look uninvolved. Something flickers across his face—pain maybe, or guilt—before his expression locks down again. His fingers twitch toward the cigarette pack he can't use.

"That's..." Yunjin leans closer, voice barely above a whisper. "It explains a lot about how things work around here."

"Heavy legacy to carry," you murmur, watching RM across the fire. He's laughing at something Moon said, but there's weight in his shoulders that makes more sense now.

"Can't forget where we came from." J-Hope's eyes drift to his glass of water. "Makes us stronger, but also more careful. Trust is..." He shakes his head. "Trust is complicated here."

The conversation dies out naturally, leaving you all to digest the story. Smoke from the bonfire drifts up in weird rivulets, as if dissolving the thick fog of tension that seems to have settled over all of you. You find yourself studying RM with new eyes, seeing past the white hair and commanding presence to the brother who had to rebuild from ashes.

You can't help but wonder how many other secrets this gang holds, how many other stories wait in the dark corners of the castle.

"Must've taken some serious balls," Yunjin says softly, respect clear in her voice. "Building everything back up like that."

"It did." J-Hope responds in a hushed tone. "RM rebuilt from scratch—new recruits, stronger divisions. Dragged us back from the edge. Now look at us."

You let the weight of it sink in, watching the flames dance. Because this? This explains so much. About everything and everyone.

The strict rules, the emphasis on loyalty, why everyone walks on eggshells around certain topics.

"That's why we celebrate." JM appears beside you, hands tucked into his oversized cardigan. "Remembering where we started, how far we've come."

The energy shifts suddenly as RM approaches, beer in hand, firelight catching on his dyed hair. His smile is crooked, eyebrow raised like he knows you've been talking about him.

"Why's everyone looking so serious?" He asks, though playfully.

V materializes like he's been summoned, snatching someone's beer out of their hands like it's normal. He clinks his bottle against RM's with dramatic flair.

"Oh, just sharing tales of our glorious leader." V grins, and it sounds almost mocking—were it not for the respect clearly coloring his tone despite all that theatrical bullshit.

RM's eyebrow climbs higher, amusement flickering across his face. He takes a slow sip, eyes scanning your little group like he's reading a particularly interesting book.

"Legendary tales?" He chuckles, the sound warming the night air. "Should I be worried?"

"Just telling it like it is." J-Hope's smile is soft. "What you've built here."

Silence falls, but it's not weird, or tense or uncomfortable. Rather, it's like a brief respite where everyone can gather their thoughts, really look at RM and ponder all he has achieved.

No wonder everyone respects him so much.

"Not just me," he says quietly. "Every person here made Kkangpae what it is today."

You watch him immediately work the crowd, joking and talking with members from every division. It's impressive how he balances it all—being both the guy who can order executions and the one who remembers everyone's birthday.

You know now why people would literally die for him.

RM is not only a leader—but a mentor. A companion. A friend.

AD finally graces everyone with his presence about twenty minutes later.

And holy shit, he's wearing actual pajamas with a puffer jacket thrown over them—giving exactly zero fucks about dress codes or basic social norms.

His hands are stuffed in his pockets as he approaches, moving with his usual 'everyone here is an idiot' energy. The crowd parts for him automatically—partly out of respect, partly because nobody wants to deal with his grumpy ass when he's been interrupted mid-game.

"This meat better be worth dropping League for," he announces to no one in particular, a mix of annoyance and vague threat.

A few people laugh because, well, of course AD was gaming. Man would probably try to finish a match during the apocalypse.

You catch Jeon using the distraction to slip away, moving toward the BBQ area with that silent grace that makes him such a good sniper. His timing is s̶u̶s̶p̶i̶c̶i̶o̶u̶s̶l̶y̶ perfectly calculated to avoid AD.

Takama notices too, because that man apparently notices everything. He gives the group a small smile.

"Going to help with dinner prep," he says casually, but the knowing look in his eyes says he's well aware of what he's actually doing—running interference between two of Kkangpae's most complicated relationships.

You watch Takama head for the grill, where Moon and Jeon are already setting up for dinner.

AD drops into a spot near the fire, his puffer jacket rustling against pajama pants. Only he could show up to a gang celebration dressed for a gaming marathon and still command respect.

The perks of being a genius, you guess.

"He's always like this." Yunjin whispers, leaning her pink head against your shoulder. "All grumpy but like... in a way that works?"

"Yeah." You watch AD pull out his phone, probably checking League stats. "Like he exists in his own dimension but somehow still runs cyber security for a whole criminal organization."

Eunchae sways closer, definitely past tipsy now. "He's literally just a cat in human form." She giggles. "A really smart, really angry cat who can hack the government."

"That's AD for you." J-Hope's smile is fond despite his words. "Brilliant bastard works best when we leave him alone with his computers."

The conversation drifts into lighter territory, gang members sharing stories about missions gone wrong and parties gone wild.

Someone brings up the time V tried to convince everyone he could parkour off the castle roof (he couldn't), and another mentions how AD once hacked the castle's speaker system to blast K-pop when RM pissed him off.

At some point, your eyes end up drifting to the grill again, where Jeon's rolled up his sleeves to help with the meat. The distant light catches on his silver chain, on the tattoos snaking down his arms, and—

Noooope. You take a long sip of your drink.

Tonight's about having fun with your friends, not staring at your division chief like some horny teenager.

After a couple minutes, RM's got everyone hooked on some wild story about a past operation. He's actually a good storyteller—knows exactly when to pause for dramatic effect, when to throw in a joke. His white hair glows as he gestures, painting pictures of close calls and clever escapes.

Everyone goes quiet as he hits the climax, especially the new recruits like you.

Because this is more than just a story—it's their story, really. All the shit they've been through together, all the wins and losses that made Kkangpae what it is.

Movement catches your eye as Jeon comes back from the grill, empty-handed but smelling like smoke and grilled meat. His eyes sweep the crowd before landing on you for a beat too long. You don't know why you shift in your seat.

The smell of dinner gets stronger, making your stomach growl. Moon and Takama have outdone themselves, judging by the heavenly aromas drifting over.

You stretch as you stand, joints popping after sitting so long. Everyone migrates toward the food like moths to flame, and you walk behind everyone right along Yunjin.

Once it's your turn, Takama hands you a plate with a little bow, looking stupidly proud of himself. The grill's loaded with enough food to feed an army, everything sizzling and perfectly charred.

"What'll it be?" He grins, waving at the spread. "Got spicy pork, garlic shrimp, Moon's fancy chicken..."

You're still trying to decide when Jeon appears beside you like a s̶e̶x̶y̶ stealthy shadow. The heat from the grill has nothing on the warmth he radiates like a fucking stove.

"Try the bulgogi," he says quietly, like he's sharing a secret. "Moon's got a special marinade."

You turn to him, eyebrows raised. "Yeah? That what you usually get?"

His lips quirk up slightly, pupils reflecting the firelight. "I know good food when I see it. Trust me on this one."

"Fine," you match his almost-smile. "But if it sucks, I'm blaming you."

Something flickers across his face—amusement maybe, or satisfaction. "Deal. But it won't."

Takama watches this exchange with poorly hidden surprise.

"He's right though," he adds, grinning. "Moon really outdid himself tonight."

Takama loads your plate with bulgogi and all the fixings, somehow making even serving food look elegant. You catch Jeon watching you, his dark eyes lingering on you for a hot second before snapping back to the grill.

The plate feels heavy as you turn away.

Was that—

No.

You definitely didn't just see the ghost of a smile on Jeon's stupidly p̶r̶e̶t̶t̶y̶ annoying face.

You shake your head, trying to dislodge that thought along with the weird flutter in your chest. Walk back to the bonfire, where everyone has gathered once again.

You catch AD practically drooling over his plate of meat when J-Hope strikes like a particularly aggressive mother hen. In one smooth motion, he swaps AD's feast for what looks like a garden threw up on a plate.

"What the fuck?" AD stares at his new plate of greens like it personally offended his entire family. "The hell is this shit?"

J-Hope grins, way too pleased with himself. "It's called vegetables, genius. Some of us care if you die of scurvy."

"Did I fucking ask?" AD's eye twitches. "Give me my food back before I hack your medical license."

"Not happening." J-Hope holds the meat plate higher. "Your blood work was atrocious last check. You need fiber."

AD rises from his seat like a hissing cat. "Listen here, you overgrown nurse—"

"Fucking—!" J-Hope dances backward, still holding the plate hostage. "I swear to god, you're worse than a toddler—"

"At least toddlers don't have to deal with control freak doctors!" AD lunges for the plate. "Give it back before I reprogram all the hospital equipment to play Baby Shark!"

"Try it!" J-Hope dodges. "I'm not letting you die of a heart attack at thirty just because you refuse to eat a vegetable!"

They chase each other around the fire like two cats fighting over territory, completely forgetting they're supposed to be respected Council members.

Truly, the sight of Kkangpae's scariest hacker trying to tackle their head doctor over grilled meat is... something else.

J-Hope scurries away from AD's grab, his face scrunching with frustration. "God, you're so difficult. Maybe if you ate a vegetable once in your life, I wouldn't have to babysit you!"

"Fuck off!" AD snarls. "I survived this long without your fucking helicopter parenting."

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it's thanks to my job as Chief Medical Officer?" J-Hope throws his hands up.

"Which you're gonna lose if you—that's it." AD's eyes narrow dangerously. "I'm revoking your med bay access. Have fun treating patients from the parking lot, doc."

"Are you actually insane?" J-Hope's voice rises. "You want people to die because you're throwing a tantrum over vegetables?"

"There's plenty of doctors in your division." AD's voice drips venom.

"You little—"

"Give me my damn food," AD cuts him off, eyes glinting with malice, "or I'll double your clinic hours too."

J-Hope hands the plate back with a heavy sigh. AD's victory grin would be cute if he wasn't such an insufferable brat about it. He tears into the meat like he hasn't eaten in days, and J-Hope watches with the tired resignation of someone who's fought this battle too many times.

You don't miss how V drapes himself over JM like an overly affectionate puppy, all charm in one package. His voice drops low, honey-sweet with poison underneath.

"Your hair's like moonlight on the Han River tonight, Chim."

JM flushes pink, fingers twisting the hem of his oversized cardigan. It's weird seeing the Finance Chief so f̶l̶u̶s̶t̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ vulnerable—usually he's all gentle smiles.

"Stop it, Tae," he mumbles, but there's no real protest in it.

V leans back, looking way too pleased with himself. His laugh sounds like dark chocolate tastes. "What? Can't admire how pretty you make yourself?"

"Not for you," JM says, but his lips twitch upward.

"No?" V's eyes glitter dangerously. "For the stars then? Giving them competition?"

JM shakes his head, laughing despite himself. "You're absolutely ridiculous."

"You love it though." V tilts his face skyward, looking like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. But you've seen him throw knives without blinking. "Admit it, Jimin. You'd be so bored without me."

"Maybe." JM's voice goes soft. Fond.

You watch them, these two opposite forces... It's like watching a mouse play with a snake, except the mouse knows exactly what game they're playing.

The fire makes V's face look almost tender, and you wonder if that smile is sincere at all.

The bonfire's died down to a gentle pulse now.

Most of the gang's cleared out, leaving just the Council and a few others scattered around.

You smell it in the air—woodsmoke and lingering BBQ smell, plus that weird mix of everyone's signature scents—cinnamon, sandalwood, fresh lemons.

Pine.

AD sways on his feet, drink sloshing dangerously in his hand.

"One more round?" His words blur together, eyes squinting like he's trying to focus on three J-Hopes at once.

SMACK.

J-Hope's hand connects with the back of AD's neck. "You're already wasted, dumbass. Put the glass down."

"Fuck off," AD rubs his neck, scowling like an angry kid. "I'm celebrating."

"Celebrating what? Your last functioning brain cell?" J-Hope's eyebrow shoots up. "Remember last time? When you redecorated my clinic walls?"

"That was—" AD waves vaguely, almost falling over. "Different."

"Right." J-Hope's voice drips sarcasm. "Just like when I had to carry your drunk ass upstairs while you rambled about beating RM at Mario Kart?"

"Never happened." AD tries to stand straighter, fails spectacularly. "I never lose Mario Kart. 'Specially not to that... that dimpled nerd..."

"Sure." J-Hope watches him sway with tired resignation. "I'm not playing nursemaid tonight. Last time I practically had to read you a bedtime story."

"Got there fine myself!" AD protests.

"After decorating the hallway with your dinner!" J-Hope throws his hands up. "The recruits thought someone had poisoned you!"

Everyone laughs, because watching Kkangpae's scariest hacker get mothered by their head doctor is honestly peak entertainment.

The fire catches on AD's blonde hair as he wobbles again, and you catch J-Hope tensing, ready to catch him if needed.

For all their bickering, it's kind of s̶w̶e̶e̶t̶ amusing how they look out for each other.

"Let's play truth or dare." AD's eyes gleam with drunk mischief. "Keep the party going without dying of alcohol poisoning."

Everyone shuffles closer to the dying fire, and you settle between Yunjin and Eunchae, feeling the warmth of both the fire and the vodka in your system.

"No life-threatening dares," RM warns, using his Commander Voice™ despite the slight slur in his words.

Eunchae bounces in her seat, hair vibrating with her. "I'll start!" She zeroes in on JM. "Truth or dare?"

JM fidgets with his cardigan sleeve, firelight catching on his round glasses. "Truth."

"Ever stolen from anyone here?" She leans forward, grinning.

Pink creeps across JM's cheeks. "I... maybe borrowed V's favorite lighter once? But I gave it back!"

"Knew it wasn't just misplaced." V drapes himself over JM's shoulders, smile sharp. "My little thief."

The nickname makes JM flush darker. Everyone laughs, and he quickly redirects attention to AD. "Your turn. Truth or dare?"

"Dare." AD's still rubbing his neck where J-Hope smacked him earlier. "Do your worst."

"Most embarrassing mission moment. Spill."

AD's cocky grin falters. "Fuck. Fine. Had to hide in a dumpster once. Got attacked by this demon cat for two hours straight. Came back looking and smelling like actual garbage."

You snort so hard your drink almost comes out your nose. Even Jeon's lips twitch, which is practically rolling on the floor laughing by his standards.

"Yeah, yeah." AD waves off the laughter. "V, truth or dare?"

"Dare, obviously." V's eyes glitter dangerously.

"Do your best Flower impression."

V stands with theatrical grace, straightening his posture until he looks eerily like your division chief. His voice goes sharp, nailing Chaewon's don't test me tone.

"Listen up, you worthless men. Touch my girls, I remove your hands. This is a crucial mission—no room for your masculine incompetence. Follow the plan or face consequences. I hate all of you equally." He pauses, then adds sweetly, "Except Jimin, of course."

Everyone loses it at V's impression, especially JM who's clapping like an excited seal. V takes an exaggerated bow before dropping back down next to JM.

"Not bad." Chaewon tries to hide her smile and fails. "But we'll work on that impression later."

"My turn." V's eyes lock onto RM with some kind of sharp focus he gets sometimes. "Boss man, truth or dare?"

RM sets his drink down, looking thoughtful. "Truth."

"Ever regret any decisions as our fearless leader?"

RM goes quiet. Something dark passes over his face, and you remember what J-Hope said earlier about his brother, about betrayal and loss.

"Yes." His voice comes out rough. "Leadership comes with its share of regrets."

Silence descends, only the crackling fire interrupting it. It's like momentarily, everyone is holding their breath, like they've stumbled onto something they weren't meant to see.

"But that's in the past." RM shakes it off, mask sliding back into place. "Jessi, truth or dare?"

"Dare." She sits up straighter, ready for anything.

"Dance around the fire." RM's smile turns playful again.

"Pffft. Easy."

Jessi jumps up without hesitation because of course she does. She moves like she fights—confident, though clearly powerful. Everyone cheers her on, the earlier tension dissolving into laughter.

"That was fun." She drops back into her seat, grinning. "Moon, truth or dare?"

"Truth." Moon adjusts his glasses, looking amused.

"Got any secret wine stashes in that castle of yours?"

"Not so secret now." He chuckles. "A man needs his vices, and good wine happens to be mine."

The game continues, everyone getting progressively bolder with their challenges as the alcohol flows.

You're about to call it a night when V's eyes land on you.

A dangerous sparkle glints on them, and you don't like it one bit.

"Your turn, princess. Truth or dare?"

You blame the vodka for what comes out of your mouth next.

"Dare."

The way V's smile spreads across his face makes your stomach drop. He looks like a cat that just cornered a mouse, which is never a good sign.

"Swap clothes with Jeon."

The group goes quiet. Your eyes snap to Jeon automatically—he's gone rigid, jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. His eyebrow piercing glints as he quirks it up.

"Pick something else." Jeon's voice is sharp and direct.

"Nope." V pops the 'p', clearly enjoying this. "Rules are rules."

"This isn't—"

"What's wrong?" V cuts him off. "Scared of a little clothing swap?"

Jeon's gaze goes rigid. The fire catches his silver chain as he shifts, and you catch a whiff of pine and mint. His eyes meet yours for a split second before darting away.

"Fine." He practically spits the word. "But just the jacket."

Everyone goes quiet, heads swiveling between you and Jeon. You can practically hear V's inner thoughts as if he's considering pushing for more, but even he knows when he's pushed far enough.

Your heart does a stupid little flip when Jeon shrugs off his leather jacket. Because it's going to smell like him, you realize. Like pine and wood and s̶m̶o̶k̶e̶ whatever.

This is fine. Everything's fine. 

He walks over to you, jacket finally off him—the one he practically lives in, and jesus christ—the black turtleneck underneath fits him like a second skin. Your eyes trace the way it clings to his shoulders, his chest, every muscle clearly defined under the fabric.

You peel off your hoodie before you can overthink it, though it catches in your hair because of course it does. When you finally emerge, your white turtleneck suddenly feels too tight, too revealing.

Especially when Jeon's eyes darken as they sweep over you, and his tongue flicks out to play with his lip ring.

Something hot coils in your stomach.

You try very hard not to stare at his mouth.

His gaze feels like a tongue licking down your neck, lingering where the turtleneck hugs your curves. His Adam's apple bobs, and he wets his lips again.

You catch yourself wondering what that lip ring would feel like against your—

Stop being horny around your superior, damn slut.

The night air raises goosebumps on your arms, but you barely notice. You're too busy trying not to gawk at him again, to openly stare at how his turtleneck stretches across his pecs. Your fingers itch to trace the lines of muscle you can see through the fabric.

But then V's laugh breaks through the tension like a bucket of cold water.

Right. You have an audience.

You thrust your hoodie toward Jeon, desperate to end whatever this heat is.

His fingers brush yours during the exchange, sending electricity shooting up your arm.

You slip into his jacket and immediately regret everything.

You were wrong.

It doesn't smell like pine and wood and whatever.

It smells like leather and tobacco and something wild, like pine trees after rain. Like a fresh breeze coming through the forest on an autumn morning.

Your heart hammers against your ribs as his scent wraps around you.

Jeon looks almost p̶a̶i̶n̶e̶d̶ uncomfortable as he pulls on your hoodie. His usual fluid grace is gone, movements stiff and awkward. The hoodie that drowns you barely fits across his shoulders, and something about seeing him in your clothes makes your pulse skitter.

Okay, no. This is not fine.

Because his goddamn shoulders strain against your hoodie like it's trying to contain a force of nature.

It's weird seeing him in something so... soft?

He moves, trying to adjust in the smaller piece of clothing—clearly not his size. So it rides up, revealing a strip of tattooed skin right above his waistband.

You've seen his tattoos before.

Yet, somehow, this accidental glimpse feels more i̶n̶t̶i̶m̶a̶t̶e̶ inappropriate than all your training sessions combined.

His eyes snap to yours, catching you staring. Suddenly it feels like all oxygen has been depleted. His jaw clenches, the muscles working under his skin in a way that's suddenly very distracting.

Everything feels magnified—the rise and fall of his chest under your hoodie, the flex of his fingers at his sides, the way his silver chain slightly bounces with his breathing.

The party fades to background noise, and all you can focus on is how his presence seems to fill every inch of space around you.

He looks impossibly hot, and it's unfair, really.

It's unfair how your heart pounds so loud you wonder if he can hear it. It's unfair how there's something magnetic about him tonight, something that makes you want to step closer even as your brain screams to maintain distance.

It's in his stance, his gaze, the storm brewing behind his dark eyes.

And then he speaks, low, gravelly and utterly, utterly unfair.

"Looks like it fits you better than it does me, sunshine."

It sends shivers down your spine, that nickname again. Because the way he says it? Like it melts down his lips like honey dripping right from the comb?

Not fair.

But nothing about Jeon has ever seemed fair.

Not now, not before. Not even as you two make it back to your previous sitting spots.

But you saw it—the way something flashed across his face when he said it, like he was allowing himself that tiny reprieve. Something so wild and unguarded that had disappeared so fast you almost think you had imagined it.

Truth or Dare keeps going, each round getting bolder, but you're having trouble focusing. Your brain keeps circling back to the leather jacket wrapped around you, to the scent of forest that's definitely not helping your concentration.

Jeon's eyes find yours across the fire for the hundredth time tonight. The way he's looking at you now... It's definitely different. It makes your neck burn hot.

Because it's like every time your gazes lock, the air gets a little thicker, a little harder to breathe.

"You good?" Yunjin's whisper cuts through your thoughts. She bumps your shoulder, pink hair falling in her face as she studies you with that too-knowing look of hers.

"Yeah, just thinking." You manage a smile, hoping the firelight hides how warm your face feels.

Someone then dares AD to do aegyo and nearly gets their laptop privileges revoked. You laugh, enjoying the moment with your crew.

But you can't lie to yourself. You're still stuck in this weird bubble where all you can focus on is how Jeon's jacket feels against your skin, how it carries his warmth like it's trying to brand you.

It's not long before the bonfire burns low, casting longer shadows across familiar faces. People start drifting away in twos and threes, sleepy and dizzy.

RM stretches. "Time to wrap it up. Early start tomorrow."

"Ready to go?" Yunjin tugs at your sleeve. "I'm about to pass out."

You nod, pushing yourself up on slightly unsteady legs.

The walk back to the castle feels dreamlike, caught between the quiet forest sounds and your own thundering heartbeat. You tell yourself it's just the alcohol making everything feel so intense.

Yunjin is chattering about something and you feel kinda bad—because you're not really listening. Your brain's too busy replaying every moment by the fire, every loaded glance, every touch.

Your room feels smaller somehow when you finally get there. You close the door and lean against it, trying to get your head straight. The fabric over your shoulders heavier now that you're alone, like it's carrying more than just Jeon's scent.

You shrug it off slowly, fingers catching on worn spots in the leather. The smell of pine and wood hits you again, making your stomach do that stupid little flip thing.

You don't want to analyze what that means.

Taking a deep breath (that definitely doesn't make your head spin with his scent), you lay the jacket at the end of your bed.

It looks wrong there, too dark and dangerous against your regular bedding.

You change into pajamas quickly, like you're trying to outrun your own thoughts, and the truth is the cotton feels too soft after the weight of leather, too normal after everything that happened tonight.

Sliding under the covers, your eyes drift back to the jacket.

It's just clothing, just leather and zippers and thread. It lies there, so inanimate—and yet, somehow, so full of meaning.

The castle creaks and settles around you, leaves rustling outside your window as you wait for drowsiness to drag you under.

You tell yourself the only reason you're not hanging the jacket up is because you're too tired.

goal: 300 notes. next chapter will be posted immediately AS SOON as the goal is reached. 🧚🏻 do your thing kiki nation. <3

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[cloudcountry]

Ok it says requests closed but I was gonna ask: what about Ritsu is so compelling to you? I find him rather bland and want to hear what about him makes you feel safe and loved? Why is he your favorite? INFODUMP me write all your interest I am listening with excitement :3

oh youre so good, this doesnt count as a request at all!! i actually needed a few days to gather my thoughts and make this semi-coherent. i also consulted my six pages of notes about this guy. yes im normal about him. yes.

RITSU SHINJO. there are a lot of things to love methinks. he can definitely come across as someone who is rude or stuck up, and dont get me wrong i totally did NOT fuck w his ass when i first met him. but he changed my mind really quickly.

i really appreciate how he stands up for what he believes in. like his ambitious nature is what really endeared me to him at first. he stares down barrels of guns and is like "okay, but youre going to listen to what i have to say" and honestly??? i was in awe. hes such a brave person and even if it may seem a lil stupid or outrageous sometimes it always works out in the end somehow.

hes also really smart??? like OBVI but like hold on. there are 264 ARTICLES in the japanese penal code. TWO HUNDRED SIXTY FOUR. and he STILL knows more laws on TOP of that. has them MEMORIZED no less!! hes well versed in the arts and his vocabulary is extensive as well. he can speak MULTIPLE LANGUAGES, including german, french, and italian. literally WHAT THE FUCK. hes so impressive??? this is some rich people shit T0T

his lil quirks are super cute too, like how he only drinks black coffee and has six handkerchiefs so his opponents dont see him sweat, or how he spends time watching opera to unwind after the day's events. his handwriting isnt the neatest and he gets SO butthurt about it. hes so unflappable usually but when insulted? its like we get to see the actual ritsu. its silly bc if you compliment him on his SKILLS hes like "oh its natural, ofc i did xyz" but i want to see how he reacts to being told he looks good. or someone noticing if he did something different w his hair, or wore different accessories, or got a new pen. just . someone noticing the little things about HIM, too.

HE FUCKIN SUCKS AT GAMBLING I LOVE HIMMMM also memorized card game rules after learning he'd be sorted into sinostra. he has so much book smartness but when you put him in front of people he fumbles HARD. like its so cute but also i worry about that bc he needs friends and i want him to make friends but i fear he doesnt think he needs them. what he lacks socially he makes up for in random ass trivia that no one needs to know ever.

hes so PREPARED. this is one of the main things that makes me feel so safe around him actually because hes thought of everything. and yk he doesnt even think its that big of a deal. he exchanges the currency so sinostra can have an inn to stay in for the night, he records everything for jabberwock to make sure he understands exactly what he needs to do for the animals, he covers all of his bases and takes notes about everyones behavior just in case in comes in handy.

uses his stigma for fuckass shit like busting down doors and not getting hurt by a rickety bus ride. uses his book to whack people over the head. regularly goes to the mystery diner and ignores ren's complaints about how he sits his ass down foreverrrr. romeo calls him a greenhorn and he blabs about how he obviously isn't. taiga calls him a dumbass and he starts screeching like a baby bird. hes always trying to reign in taiga while also encouraging his bullshit. has obvious favoritism for mc. protects her whenever he can and worries over her safety when she almost fuckin DIES. acknowledges that shes weaker than him, because hes a ghoul and thats just how it is, and actively takes steps to NOT ONLY PROTECT HER HIMSELF, but build up her confidence TOO.

literally i am convinced the way ritsu sees love is making the people you love the absolute best version of themselves, because thats what his parents did for him. so he tries to teach you what he knows, he RELIES on you to keep tabs on romeo or taiga (that is HUGE actually, considering he berates ren for his attitude and doesnt really seem to be close enoough with the other ghouls to rely on them for anything.)

let me say that again, ritsu views mc as an equal because hes placing the captain/vice captain in her hands and telling her to keep an eye on them, he calls HER when he's trying to meet up with everyone, he's actively treating her like a business partner where they will BOTH BENEFIT in more ways than just the curse lifting and winning the laurel crown--

ARGHHHH I LVOE RITSU SHINJO SO MUCH. you are a trooper if u read all of this can i just say .

THANK YOU FOR ASKING I LOVEEEE TALKING ABOUT HIM <3333